The smartest girl in the class

After two years of online learning and on site education at my now former school, I am back in the classroom as a student. Not only am I a student, but I am the smartest girl in the class.

It started out like any other class, high school, college, graduate, doesn't matter. Boredom. Why am I here? I don't like sitting in class listening to someone talk at me in a monotone sort of way which creates a stirring in me that I cannot control. Sit on feet, one foot up on chair, cross legged, now both down, now head resting on hands but my cheeks are getting squished, now straight and tall like all the other grown ups in the room. I look at my watch constantly and realize it's only been 45 minutes. I have potentially 4 1/4 more hours to go. Then panic... I HAVE 4 1/4 MORE HOURS TO GO!! So, I doodle a little, but quickly stop because I hate how my notebook looks when it has doodles in it. I am far to anal for that. My doodles are not pretty enough and my notebook could stay pristine if I keep the doodles out. Then I go to letter writing; however, I have nobody to write a letter to and I feel like a high schooler for sure now.

But then it happens. I realize that I am the smartest girl in the class, and this has never been the case. I hear the groans as she announces a 6-8 paper. Are you kidding me? I can write 6 pages in my sleep. That's nothin! Than I sense every body's anxiety as they are asked a quite simple question and I rise to the occasion. Something I know very little about doing in class. I'm the quiet one usually, the dark horse. Not this time. I have experience that they can't relate to and are in awe of and I for some reason, have the courage, without sweating all over myself, to share it. Who am I? Well, apparently I am the smartest girl in the class.

Am I 17 again?

There have been several times when I thought that I'd never live at home again. The first time of course was moving into my freshman dorm, but we all know that's a pipe dream. Of course you have to move back, you're a freshman. Then there was the summer I moved into an apartment with some friends and aquaintances. Definitely wasn't going to be moving home after that... but I did... for a year! Then I got married, and naturally felt that I would never live with my parents again... but, here I am: married, 24 and livin at home, husbandless!

It's not so bad and quite familiar but not somewhere I thought I'd be, but we're makin it work. JR and I have mastered long distance and although it sucks more now than ever, it's nothing that we can't survive.

Living at home after all these years is funny. You're still the kid, they're still the parents; however, there's comfort in it as well as it's all so familiar. They go to bed, I go online. We drink wine at night together. I have a credit card with their name on it so I can buy them groceries. We watch our shows at night together. It's nostalgic as well. Living at home reminds me of high school and college summers. Calling friends, waiting for people to show up on AIM and making plans in the old stompin' grounds. For now, it's easy and perhaps exactly where I need to be for the summer. Takin it easy so I can focus on getting the masters done, the job secured and a home found before my world gets flipped upside down again with MBA's, new jobs, new homes and perfect weather....
.... but I do miss my family. They'll be here soon!

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