Back to school

I’m going back to school. Again. But let’s look at history a little bit, shall we?

Attempt #1: I graduated from high school and was hell bent on going away to school somewhere different than all my friends. My choice was a private Methodist school. I was and am still neither private or Methodist. Only one other person from my high school was going to the same college I was going to. She died in a car wreck the July before we would have started school. I lasted two weeks and my favorite story to tell is about the junior transfer roommate I had. She came in every night around 2am, usually drunk, and would throw open our metal door so it would slam against the cinder block wall. After three nights of that, I started booby-trapping our entire dorm room so she’d trip over things when she came in at night. Sorry, Cat.

Attempt #2: I took one or two classes at a time at State Fair Community College. This worked well until I got a job. And then I got a second job. And then I got promoted. And then I left food service at the ripe age of 21, never to return again, and had a couple of other awesome jobs. At least awesome for where I was living. From 1994-2000, I earned 32 credits. Yes, part of that happened when I was in high school. That’s not counting the billion others I ended up dropping.

Attempt #3: I worked for a company that paid for my school. Hell yes. So I wound up with another six credits and dropping four classes over the span of two years.

That makes this attempt number four. Just like with all of the other attempts, I have to find someway to pay for it. Much like Attempt #3, I’m not about to take out anymore loans, because to be quite honest, I’m still paying back the ones I took out before.

I only need 40 credits to get my Associate’s, which I’ll be getting at a community college. It’s cheaper. It’s close to my house. I can take a lot of the classes online. When I’m done there, in a couple of years, my goal (AND DREAMS) involve enrolling at the University of Minnesota and getting a Bachelor’s of something or other, because it’s not like it really matters just as long as I have the degree, right?

Then, I’ll join a fraternity and be drunk every night, go to mascot tryouts, probably go streaking in the quad, play some hackey sack with all my friends, and do all those other things that you get to do when you’re in college. Even if I am 40 when it happens.