My pencils are sharpened, my patent leather shoes are polished and I have a shiny, new apple for the teacher. Actually, I don't have any of those things. (Come to think of it, I should really have patent leather shoes.)
What I do have is my ID card, my parking pass on my rear view mirror and my overpriced books. My first classes start tomorrow and just like that, I'm back to college. It has been 10 years since I've had to take a test, write a research paper or sit still in a classroom for more than an hour. This will be a challenge. On the one hand they are writing classes, and I'd like to think I can handle the practical aspects of that world.
But, on the other hand, I'm not 18 anymore. There are no keggers waiting on the weekends, no cutting class to run off to D.C., and no late night dorm parties. At the end of my classes, it's back home to responsibility and work. Back to reality. Bummer. College is supposed to be an escape from reality. No wonder non-trads always seemed so annoying. It's because they had to leave us partying fools and head back to poopy diapers and poopier bosses.
I'll keep you posted on my progress and let you know how I'm doing. Keep your fingers crossed that I'm accepted by the locals. Now, do you think they'll let me use erotica for my course work?