Boogie The Student

As of this last week, Boogie became a student.........again.

I have been officially enrolled in local college to pursue higher education in the world of food stuffs. Now, this is probably none to surprising to any regular reader of this blog, has I have mentioned this before. In great vivid, boring detail no less. So, at most, you reading this only confirms that I actually have the ability to stick to what I say. Yay me.

I have fought tooth and nail against further education. Not that there’s anything wrong with education of course, and I’m still a firm advocate that people should get as much as possible. But for me and the sad little world I live in, I figured I had done enough. I still have that overpriced piece of paper on my wall from my last venture into higher education. And I’ve got a few jobs on the resume that say I’ve done intelligent work and can be a guy trusted to perform well in the pinch. So, going back made no sense to me. I was done man! And when I walked away from school in full gown, I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I hadn’t slept in a month, was shaky, paranoid (well more so anyways,) and was an all around not pleasant human being to be around. It was mad pressure, trying to get through the classes, and pass the tests so I could be done. And once finished, I slept the next day post grad swearing to nobody in particular that I would never walk into one those hell holes again.

And here I sit, enrolled again. Fate’s a funny bitch.

I’m not complaining, I promise.....well not as much as usual anyways. I’m pretty stoked about my studies and what kind of stuff I’ll be picking up. But I can’t help but feel like a man out of time. I am feeling ridiculously out of place here. I’ve been away from the college world for a few years now, and having to walk back in makes me feel so.......old.

The day I got my application in really hit that feeling home. As I walked into the student services building, all around me were young goofy looking kids, fresh faced with high school still a pretty clear memory in their noodles. I stared at my application, trying to decipher this code I once knew pretty well. The moment of shame hit when I had to break out my cell phone calendar to remember which month I graduated high school in. High school people! My youth is over. And all the while, the new youth bounced around me, laughing ridiculously in the trendy wear of the moment, fearing nothing as the future was still wide open for them. These were kids that had never had a legal drink, or had the pressure of a full time day gig to fill their minds. Insurance and retirement weren’t even a thought in their minds, the hard truth of their mortality hadn’t hit them yet. It was clear from the get go, that I was in a strange land.

There was no way I could sit amongst any of these young folk and let my hair down. In fact the mere idea of even carrying on a conversation with one of these proper students felt sort of dirty. Like I was some kind of sicko for even considering it. I walked from admissions to financial aid to testing as quickly as I could, not giving anyone a chance to think that this old hairy man in the leather coat might not belong here. Part of me was on the defensive, ready to yell “I may look like a pervert, but I swear I’m a student!” And I was fully prepared to have nobody believe me. I was constantly aware of the nearest exit, and kept my knees loose in case I’d need to make a break for it.

Fortunately, people were generous and kind, as they so often are. And aside from some particularly dirty looks from a particularly angry looking woman at the assessment center, I walked through unscathed.

I’m in now, and there is no turning back. This isn’t some strange thing I’ve been forced into by the powers that be, I actually want this. And I ain’t about to fuck it up. So, every day in class is now going to be another day where I defend my age and decision against people who can probably run circles around me both mentally and physically. I hope and pray that the deep lines under my eyes and the slight gray appearing on my beard will be hard to see in a kitchen lab. But eventually, they’ll catch on. They’re a smart bunch that way. And I’m gonna have to bust a little ass to prove I can not only keep up, but outrun and outlast the little pricks. Should be fun.

Watch out bastard rugrats of the world, Boogie Man Montoya the student, has entered the building.