Welcome to my nightmare, kids.
It’s always the same thing every time: I’m sitting in a classroom full of students and everyone knows the material except me. The walls close in, my heart pounds and the flop sweats kick into maximum flopping mode.
My professor bears an uncanny resemblance to Sam Kinison in the 1986 movie, Back to School, while I’m Rodney Dangerfield, the bumbling old fart student. And I just know Sam’s going to call on me again.
Quick, what’s the answer?? Dammit, think, Darla, think! Is it angina pectoris or 1492? Oh, god! I am going to die, right here, right now.
“Say it! SAY IT! SAY IT!”
I fight the urge to burst into tears, stand up and run away because I’m afraid instead I’ll faint, keel over and crush my lab partner to death. And none of us have taken our CPR course yet.
Is this a nightmare? Just a recurring bad dream?
I wish. No, this is my real life, people. Every day of the week. Why?
Because I’m a full-time college student.
I’m twice the age I was the last time I was in college. The only difference now is the reason I’m acting bewildered in class. Back in my 20s, it was due to all the ganja (involuntary second-hand inhalation from my roommates, of course).
Now it’s due to early-onset senility/foggy-perimenopause-brain/not-knowing-any-of-the-goddamned-answers-anxiety.
And the ganja.
(I kid — I get high on life.)
But hey, on a positive note, I’m continuously forced to face all of my big fears during this fall semester:
- Fear of meeting new people.
- Fear of learning new things.
- Fear of medical terms.
- Fear of phlebotomy.
- Fear of not knowing the definition of phlebotomy.
- Fear of drawing blood from my lab partner’s arm.
- Fear of not remembering new things I learned ten seconds ago — like how to stop blood gushing from open wounds in my lab partner.
- Fear of speaking in public.
- Fear of being called on and drawing a blank, turning red and mumbling, “1492?”
- Fear of burping in public due to extreme nervousness due to speaking in public.
- Fear of burping the answer “1492” just to impress the cute guy in the back row.
- Fear of realizing cute guy in back row is only 24 and therefore young enough to be my son.
- Fear of cute 24 year old guys calling me “Ma’am” and asking me if I need help crossing the street.
- Fear of doing math.
- Fear of doing math in public.
- Fear of inhaling too much second-hand ganja smoke from the dorm party I went to the previous night.
- Fear of professor Sam Kinison catching me eating an entire box of Twinkies during an exam or chugging PBR from my coffee mug, then making me do complex fractions on the board in front of the entire class, while simultaneously burping and drawing blood from my lab partner’s arm.
- Fear of him ever reading my blog.
It’s all pretty overwhelming and scary, this learnin’ stuff. It doesn’t help that the girl in the purple shirt in the above photo is Miss Know-It-All McSmugerson. God, I hate her.
But I thank my lucky stars I have you guys here to complain and vent to.
Just tell me what the answer is.
Please. Or this might happen to me and it’ll be all your fault.
What’s your recurring nightmare? Are you afraid of not knowing any of the answers? Or do you have fears of going back to school? If not, or if you DO know all the answers, I will pay you big money to sit in my classes for me. Thanks.