Ten-thirty. I am uptight, anxious, afraid to go to sleep, knowing that I'll be tossing and watching the wondrous radio/alarm clock every hour and a half until it's time to get up at six and wake the kids and move toward the first day of school.

I am worried that I haven't done enough to be thoroughly prepared, and yet I know there are things I cannot do until I meet the kids, learn which ones will be in which groups.

I'm going to start with a selection from I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, which I always think of as I Know Why the Caged Bee Stings. Thanks a lot to a master jokester. But Maya Angelou's memoir is really wonderful and beautiful written. I hope the students will enjoy it. And then fill out their own memoirs. Which my daughter told me today they will hate doing.

Oh well. No wonder I'm nervous. It's hard to live with such an assured critic.