Evangeline started her first day of second grade today at the charter school. I'm in one of those mixed-feeling moods about the whole thing. I'm happy to see her with her friends all that -- when I left, she was working happily next to one of the girls she had a few playdates with this summer and with whom she has a lot in common, interestwise -- but I still have some ambivalence anchored in the fact that I have little control over what the school teaches her, that her unique sense of humor and individual interests make her a target for bullying, and that she's one of the brightest stars in my sky, and she's not going to be around a good chunk of her waking hours now. I suppose I should just grow up about it, already.
I did establish today that I have been typecast as the helpful parent. Evangeline's teacher didn't tap me for anything today but on my way out I bumped into the principal. He told me about an upcoming landscaping project the school was going to undertake that would build on what the Girl Scout troop did in the spring, and asked me if I would be interested in volunteering for it.
And the lack of sustainable interest I have in pretty much everything that requires effort, combined with my inability to focus for substantial periods of time on things that I used to enjoy quite a lot, makes me wonder if I am suffering from some form of depression. I never did see a doctor about that way back when, so I probably should make an appointment. It'd help if I had an actual regular doctor and not a whole practice.
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