quit college about two weeks before the end of her first semester and totally screwed me.
I made like 72 different plans for my future while I was in high school. I could go to the flight attendant school that was recruiting me (they came to my house once and called several times) and then move to Nashville and have that airport as my home base but fly all over the world and meet millions of people. I could join the air force (they called a lot too)and travel all over the place. I could move to Florida and be a bartender. I could hitch a pop-up camper to the back of my '65 Rambler and go from town to town waiting tables and having adventures. I could get a degree in journalism and live in NY, some place cool, like the Village. Then I would travel all over, right in the middle of everything exciting that was happening in the world as a reporter.
What happened was I fell in love with a boy that went off to the Navy and wasn't really keen on any of these plans. So the plan I went with was... community college and journalism. Then a job writing where ever we ended up. Only I hated community college and there weren't enough people signed up so they dropped the only journalism class. If you will notice the only thing similar in all my plans was that I was going to move away and see interesting stuff and meet interesting people. Community college meant staying where I had always been, mainly with the same people I had known since 4th grade. I just felt stuck and unhappy and like a loser. So when said boy asked if I would like to move away with him, it took me about 5 seconds to decided to quit yucky boring community college.
Then he got caught sleep walking and was sent home from the Navy. (He sleep walks when he is stressed. I was going to move right before he went out to sea. The thought of me being out there alone stressed him out.) When he got home he decided he had been gone enough and wanted to stay put. Then my parents moved to Virginia Beach on a big adventure. So I was still living at home, working the same job, hanging around the same people, but an even bigger loser because I had dropped out of college and lost my scholarship.
Fast forward a little over 20 years... I am taking one class a semester as I can afford it trying to get my GPA up to a 2.0 so I can get financial aid. I have made five A's since 2002. But with the 6 zeroes I made in 1990, my GPA is still 1.94. I met with an adviser today that recommended I appeal, but didn't sound too hopeful about it. Mainly, I have to keep paying full price for classes until I can get enough in to break 2.0 with that GPA. Thank you very much 18 year old me.
But you know what... I can't really be too mad at 18 year old me. I am still married to that boy. We have AMAZING kids. I really love our life. I have lived in a couple of bigger places. I have traveled a lot with the job I have now. I have fantastic friends that I wouldn't have if I hadn't worked in the jobs I have in this little town. I will eventually get through my Associates Degree and become a Physical Therapist Assistant. Even though I went about my plans the hard way, in the end, God has worked it out so that my main goals were met and I am very, very blessed and happy.
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