My brain is mush. Like the gruel kind you see slide off of a metal spoon in those prison movies. Grey, lumpy and liquid. I’m actually afraid to shake my head in fear that I might get nauseous from the movement.
It’s in moments like these that I feel more akin to Oliver Twist, because… well, let’s go back to the beginning.
In the Summer of 2014, I decided, at the ripe old age of 43, to join my wife in going back to college (yes, she started the trend… no I’m not competing against her) and finish something I started back in 1990. Namely, my associates degree (somehow I have lasted this long in life without one, this is what I call the definition of blessed).
Last fall, I eased myself back into a class. Just one. I figured, it has been 21 years since I took a college class, might as well start slow. That class went so well (and easy), I decided to take three in the spring. No biggie, not that much of a stretch. Just reading (and for anyone who has followed me, you know how much I complained about those classes…).
At the end, I had racked up 4 A’s and I was having fun. I looked at my progress, did some research, and realized that I could graduate in the Fall with my AA, as I was only 23 credits away. Part of that was taking two 4 credit foreign language classes, though.
So, I did what any intelligent person would do. I signed up for Spanish I and II during the Summer split schedule, that way, I could knock those puppies out in no time. So, muy inteligente! (that’s Spanish.. I think)
For those who don’t know, Summer split schedule is basically taking a full semester of 15 weeks and compacting it into 6 and a half weeks time, so you end up meeting twice a week for 3 hours of classroom time, plus somewhere around 8 plus hours of homework per week, and still holding down a 9-5 Monday through Friday job… then add all that together and you might start to understand why my writing has been quiet.
I’d compute the sum of all that stuff to give you nice numbers, but like I said at the beginning:
Brain = Mush
As of yesterday, my summer classes are officially over. The final test was taken. And now, I just wait for the official grades to be posted. Unofficially, I rocked the summer classes and got straight A’s, causing me to do my celebratory dance that is usually saved for those moments in Battlefield when I sneak up on someone and knife them whilst yelling “SUCK IT!”
Yeah… I might have overdone it a bit…
Eh..
But if you need me, I’ll be over here, just dancing away.
That is until August 26th, where, as I was saying at the beginning, like a good lad, I will become Oliver Twist once again and walk back into class spouting…
More Please….
