One of the comments from my last post mentioned that I should write about the up-side of being a university student…at…errrr….my age.
I thought this was a terrific idea because there are far more positives than negatives.
Let’s start with the obvious: money. I have some.
When I was 19. Not so much.
Now I can afford to pay for tuition and get a manicure weekly.
When I was 19, I was confined to a very small student loan, and a very big desire to rock ‘n roll all day and party every night.
The consequences: I was broke by November. And could no longer rock ‘n roll all day and party every night.
Going back to school now, as an adult, a wife, and a mother, I have mastered the fine art of multitasking.
Hell, for the past 14 years I’ve been changing diapers with one hand, packing 3 lunches with the other, while baking cookies with my toes (yeah. You might want to avoid my cookies).
So going to school during the day while my children are safely ensconced within the confines of their classrooms, I’m perpetually giddy with freedom. You mean I can sit here and just listen to the prof? I don’t have to do anything else? At all? Oh? You want me to take notes while leisurely sipping my Diet Pepsi? Ok! No problem!
And now, as an adult, I realize something I didn’t at nineteen.
I realize that in order to succeed, all I have to do is open my textbooks. And read them. That’s it.
When I was 19, I didn’t understand the concept of homework.
I was passing my classes. But barely. And yes, back then, at 19, for some reason I can’t seem to fathom
(because I’m pretty sure I wasn’t a complete and total moron), I never did homework. I never studied. I have no recollection of sitting by the light of my desk in my dorm room, and looking inside a textbook. Did I even have textbooks? I’m thinking not.
So I didn’t study.
But I had three boyfriends.
At the same time.
Oh sure, for boys I could multitask.
Valentine’s Day was a virtual multitasking extravaganza as I slipped out the back door of this restaurant where I had just thanked Date #1 for lunch, and slipped through the front door of the one across the street to meet Date #2 for a later lunch. Then at supper, I had to somehow excuse myself from Date #3 because Date #1 was waiting for me in my room with beer and chips.
See, I can’t remember doing any homework. But I can remember being so relieved when fucken Valentine’s Day was over because I was nauseous and exhausted.
I should have been getting credit for that. Look at me, I’m juggling. I have 6 balls in the air.
Going to school now, is far simpler. I’m not scared of anything. When I was nineteen, I never would have even attempted science courses. I didn’t think I was smart enough.
I still don’t think I’m smart enough. But I gave birth four times. Without drugs (you may hate me ). So the microbiology course, although daunting, was a spa treatment compared to that.
Dude, I went 2 straight years in a row without more than 2 consecutives hours of sleep a night. I can learn how to give injections and administer IVs.
Sure, there were times when I curled up on the couch with my statistics textbook and balled my eyes out because I hadn’t gotten one right answer during the four hours I had been doing practice questions. But after putting back an entire jar of caramel sauce, I refocussed and pushed through that badboy as though it were the dreaded ring of fire, and not only passed that asshole course, but got a B+.
So is going to school as an adult who stayed home with children for 14 years a challenge? Yes. Sometimes. But being around people who don’t wipe their noses with their sleeves makes the challenge well worth it.