College is Not Glamorous

I went to college many years ago, and it was different. I'm not sure why I remember my experience back then being different than it is now, except for the obvious facts that I'm going to a different school and I am about 20 years older.

When I first started college at age 18, it was a small branch of the University of Cincinnati, ten minutes away from my parents' house. Going there was just like going to high school, except that nobody cared if I skipped class and, if I had time in between classes, I could go to the student lounge and get a beer. It took about two minutes to walk from my car to the classroom, five if I had to park in the back lot. Life was good.

After I got my two-year degree, I went to Main Campus. Parking was a nightmare, that was expected. So I took the bus. It was a 45-minute ride, and I had to transfer once along the way. But it was an adventure, and I made friends with the bus driver. I didn't have much going on before or after school, so as long as I had a bus schedule and 65 cents, I was fine. Life was still pretty good.

I didn't finish, though, because I got impatient waiting for life to begin. I got a full time job and let that come first. School could wait. And it waited for 20 years. In fact I really didn't expect to go back, not until my mom passed away and the inheritance I received made my dream possible again.

Enough about that. Here's the thing - when I applied for admission this time around, I got really excited about going back. It made me feel young again. I knew it would be a lot of work, but I also started thinking about how good it would make me feel. I would need some new clothes. I would need a haircut. I would need some new makeup. I envisioned myself strolling stylishly into the classroom, as young as a 40 year old can be, bright-eyed and quick witted, ready to - as one of my friends described it - "romp through the fields of brain candy."

It wasn't like that at all.

My first class on campus was a math class, 10:25 on Tuesday. I left home at the time I had planned, and expected to have about 20 minutes extra to sit in the hall or at my desk, reading. Nope. I had forgotten how hard it is to park on a college campus. The last two times I was there, I parked in the visitor lot without a glitch. This time, the lot was full. I had to drive to the other side of campus, to the other visitor lot, run through the underground tunnels (stopping to study maps and directional signs), run up three flights of stairs, and arrived huffing and puffing and sweaty - late - in my math class. Adding to my discomfiture, I had a bad sinus infection. So I was breathing hard from exertion *and* sniffling with a stuffy head. Certain all of my 19 year old classmates were staring at me, plus the thirty-something teacher who did not seem to be gifted with a sense of humor, I had to blow my nose and felt very self-conscious about it. Bffzzzzz....sniff. Not glamorous at all.

Worse, I had the same damn thing happen to me the next class two days later. I had a parking permit this time for the regular lots, but they were all full too! This time I did find a space in the visitor lot nearby the math building, but still arrived sniffling and short of breath, late, and didn't finish the quiz.

My next math class is tomorrow. My sinus infection is better, and I had hoped to arrive in week 2 with polished nails and touched-up hair color to hide the gray. Alas, I literally have not had time to do those things due to other school assignments and...well, motherhood.

The least I can do is arrive to class on time. I am going to leave for school the very second my son gets on the school bus. How do you think I'll do? Tune in tomorrow and find out.