Finals, Not The Basketball Kind

I am proud to say, after many years of dabbling with a class at a time at a community college,  I  finally finished my associates degree last year. Night classes suck. It took forever and I was miserable the whole time.

All those who are working full-time and going to school nights and weekends know what I  mean. The last thing you want to do after working a 9hr day is go to class. In that time, I acquired a husband, a house and had two children.  I have had three different day jobs and a weekend bar tending gig that was supposed to be temporary but lasted 3.5 years. I have had very different bosses ranging from supportive to “What do you mean you can’t work late tonight? Just don’t go to class.”

Struggling to stay awake through biology homework or finish that paper at 2:00am almost did me in. I have had to beg to join soccer carpools or trade band picks to ensure my littles didn’t suffer. My poor husband has had to carry a lot of the load when it comes to dinners, activities, and housework. But every ounce of sacrifice was worth it when I walked across the stage with my family cheering me on from the stands.

In fact, I was so inspired I enrolled at a local state school the next semester to pursue a 4 yr degree. Now what I didn’t realize is that tuition is much more expensive.  I  had to take loans to afford to attend. Did you know you have to take 6 credit hours to get loans? Me either. Double the classes and triple the cost, no more time to bartend. I’m broke, in debt and so tired I can’t see straight. This is what they should tell high school students about to encourage college enrollment. 

Show them my picture.

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You don’t want to be this person kids. Go to college right away. This person sometimes forgets her own name. She falls asleep sitting up during dinner, or in the shower.  Her children have to ask 6th graders for help with homework on the bus.  Her husband eats leftovers and takeout every week . She is wearing clothes from 10 years ago because she has no time or money to shop. It is not a pretty sight.

It’s finals week. All the traditional students in my classes are making study dates and talking about getting beers at the bar after class. They walked here from dorms around the corner after getting up at noon. They have perky ponytails and hot dates.

I hate them. I have sore feet from walking the 3/4 of a mile from the parking lot in my work shoes where I spent 10 minutes digging around my car seat looking for enough quarters to pay the outrageous fees to park there. I got up at 6 to shower and throw something in the crockpot for dinner that my children will hate because it contains vegetables. I was at work by 7:30 after driving 30 minutes through the rain in rush hour. My pony tail says needs a haircut, and the only hot date I have is a soccer game that I  am going to be late for.

There is however light at the end of this semester’s tunnel.  One more week- that is my mantra. Then look out Hubby,  we are going to drink wine, clear a whole season of Scandal off the dvr, and maybe even go to bed at the same time.  I might even read a book that has nothing to do with grant writing techniques.  Thats alot to fit into the next three weeks before summer semester begins, but a girl can dream.

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