Some of you forgot to cross your fingers

I won’t bore you with the details about our move to St. Petersburg, Florida but let’s just say my car didn’t make it with us the first go-round and we had to go back to get it.  Two trips from New Orleans to St. Pete in 3 days.  Never again.

We’re here now.  I’m loving our new house and neighborhood and as I lay on the beach this weekend in my rented cabana, I completely forgot the last two weeks even happened.

Impressions from grad school:

1.  I wish I was still 18 years old.  Remember those days? When you didn’t worry about wrinkles or arm flab? When you ate a Chick Fil’A 8-pack with a Coke without restraint or fear of pooping yourself? Those were the days.

2.  Pooping in your pants on campus is totally not cool.  It will make you feel old and panicky, even if you were able to clean yourself up and put yourself together before class started.

3.  The campus proselytizers make interesting lunch-time companions.

4.  No one in grad school wears a back-pack, except me.

5. I totally forgot how annoying it is to sit next to young people engaged in pseudo-intellectual conversations, particularly about politics. Yes, Bachman is evil and stupid, but your lack of adjectives is the true tragedy.

6.  I hate that feeling of not knowing anyone, or where to go, or how to get somewhere or how to work something.  I know this feeling is a good thing! because it means I’m trying something new, making a huge change, getting out of my comfort zone! but, momentarily, this feeling still sucks.

7.  Taking naps in the car in-between classes is going to save my life this semester.

So is this blog, I imagine.

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