What am I doing here? aka Going Back to School

Today I had a very surreal experience. Today, I went through college orientation. Now, this may sound very commonplace to you. Every person who ever goes to college goes through college orientation. I should explain then, why it was strange to me.

First off, I start my day by running mostly typical errands. I go to the library and the post office. I have two of my kids with me. Traffic’s a bear. There is construction on almost every road I try to go down. I have one unique thing to do: I need to pick up paperwork for my son to finish enrolling him in preschool. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I’m going to have two kids in school this fall.

After that, I come home to my husband and baby and the kids he watches during the day. Things should be fairly normal from here, right? Not really. At this point I am told that I need to call my boss about a customer issue. Which is odd because it’s my day off. After a lengthy discussion with my boss about a delicate situation concerning a very easily confused and confusing customer he tells me that he needs me to be the one and only person to deal with this customer to make sure things get done right. It’s both high praise and also a little intimidating. I mean, who am I in the grand scheme of things here? I’m just a retail associate.

Right then. Off the phone and getting ready to rush out again. Lunch is a bowl of mac & cheese with ham and a quick cup of coffee (yes, that’s typical). I find a dressy shirt, and comfy jeans. A bit incongruous, at least for me when you consider I normally go for completely comfy or completely dressy, but today I’m getting an ID picture taken and doing a lot of walking. Out the door and back again…I just keep forgetting stuff. I need my wallet, I need cash, oh crap! Where’s my paperwork? I’m getting nervous now. Kiss the kids, breathe deep, and off I go!

So I get to campus. I follow the signs. It’s very handy that they have people directing me where to go. It’s also very disconcerting that they all look so very young. I find the orientation room and it’s full of high school students. Apart from the parents of the incoming students, I am the oldest person in the room. We go through a brief bit about what to expect as incoming students. I’ve been through this part before “college is about gaining your independence” *insert Charlie Brown’s teacher here. Then there’s the video message from the new president of the school. Dr. Ender. I had a very hard time not breaking in to hysterical laughter. I think I may have been the only person to make the connection.

During the course of the next five hours we are marched at a fairly brisk pace through the campus while an uninterested second year student points out the main buildings and tells us how we can log on to our student accounts and sign up for classes. I’ve already done this. One of the other mostly uninterested second year students seems mildly impressed that I’ve already logged in to the student center, signed up for classes, and even linked the college student feed to my facebook page. I, on the other hand, am mildly disappointed that this is something to get impressed about. I come to the realization that this bit of the orientation is truly for the beginning college student. The honest to goodness, fresh out of high school, still needs parental advice, directionless, here to find himself (or herself), teenager. It makes me feel a bit better.

At the end of all of this, we are sent to see an academic advisor. I’ve already seen an academic advisor. I sort of jumped the gun on that one because I wanted to make sure I was enrolling in the right classes to transfer for my degree. Still though, it’s part of orientation so I go. A very nice lady about my age is my given advisor. We sit down, she looks at her computer screen and the papers in her hand, which happen to be my high school and college transcripts and my ACT scores. She sets the college transcripts aside and smiles at me. “You’re the brilliant one” she says. I’m thinking, “Are you sure you got the right person here lady?” But what I say is “I was, in high school, but that was years ago.” She looks at my transcripts and smiles again. “I think you still are.” We talk a bit about my goals and just about things in general. We lose track of time. I have to run to catch up to the rest of the group. Once again, I’m the oldest person in the room, only now, instead of thinking, “Am I sure I want to do this?” all I can hear is “You’re the brilliant one.”

I think I’m going to be ok.