It rained last night, which fell like a curtain drawn on summer. I situated myself next to my open bedroom window so I could hear and smell the rain, turned off the lights, poured a glass of wine, and just listened. And as soon as I got myself still and quiet, the clamor inside my head became overwhelming. I can deny it no more: school is back in session, and I had better find a saner rhythm.

I will have to go the gym twice today to meet my goal of making it there three times a week while school is in session. My lunch this week was often a little Trader Joe bag of nuts, and when I got home from the golf course (after dropping a 13-seater van off at the maintenance yard that I will have to pick up again 12 hours later), my arms full of binders and papers, I found my dad is sitting there in the dark, alone with his TV. He asks me, “What’s for dinner?” Meanwhile, his caregiver is in the back room, sprawled out on the bed, watching E! or America’s Next Top Model or something.

The kids this year are great — I have no complaints. I especially like my seniors. There’s a kid in my AP class who I knew when he was a baby — we lived in the condos at 2507 East Fifteenth Street in Long Beach, and his family also lost everything after the Rodney King riots and foreclosed. A bitter reminder of a bad deal, perhaps, but the kid is interesting…smart and funny, with a little impulse control problem.

Today is Saturday. I have to get my feet under myself today if I want to move from reactive to proactive. A work day that I embark on willingly…I need to feel more in control than I do.