One Foot in Stirrup, Into the Saddle Soon

I'm going back to school, boys and girls. In just about six weeks, I will be attending classes...again. I've written about my school woes once before, and now I can proudly say that, only a mere four months after that post, I've gotten off my ass and done something about my situation.

My major (probably all majors) has an end of the semester party, and the comparative literature party was this past Wednesday. I put on my party clothes (you know--sparkly vest, spandex pants, and a cowboy hat), and I headed back to campus. I needed to see a certain professor, although I wasn't sure if she would be there since she is no longer the chair of the undergrad department anymore. But alas, she was there.

She looked at me as I walked into the room and said, "So you're coming back." I said, "That's up to you, isn't it?" I said it in a nice, subservient way--not the bitchy, scarcastic way you might have expected. No, I approached humble, (cowboy) hat in hand. I was finally ready to deal with the consequences of my actions...or, er, inactions as they were.

But essentially, there are no consequences. She was nice and friendly, and we both pretended that the Argument from Spring 2003 had never happened. She says she will write the email that will allow me to take classes this spring. She also said that she would let me finish my honor's thesis over the summer and into next fall. Yippee skippy! Can't ask for anything more than that.

I met with my regular college advisor this morning, and I basically heard from him what I expected to hear. I'm taking two classes this spring: my last French class and some sociology class that will fill a requirement.

It's hard to fathom that I will finally be back in school next semester. Finally finishing up these last classes. I'm a student again. Or just about.