The 40-year-old Freshman – Amory Goes Back to School

Fresh from my conceptual victory on Day One of my Back to School journey, I can fully admit I was feeling much more relaxed about the whole ordeal. After all, I'd been back in a classroom and had managed not to run out of it or start bawling like a little girl. And really, that was all I could have asked for in my first day back.

I was confident as I strode into my next class, perhaps too confident. Okay, I'll admit it, I was downright smug.

I arrived 15 minutes before class was scheduled to start and made my way to the back of the room. While I was a bit more comfortable, I still wasn't going to be sitting on the front row. That's where the nerds sit...

I pulled my book from my backpack and got out my paper so I could take notes. Maybe this time I'd even write some words down about what was going on instead of spending the whole time doodling.

As this was a lecture, there was no independent seating. Long tables with chairs right next to one another. While I was able to safely seclude myself in my art class, I was bound to have to sit next to someone this time around.

Sure enough, a rather large gentleman planted himself in the seat next to me. I didn't mind so much until I noticed that he was blocking the A/C vent and was apparently able to generate enough heat to warm a small Alaskan village. I glanced over at him as the air began to warm and he was obviously immune to his own heat generation as there wasn't a bead of sweat on him. Maybe he was used to it, whatever, I figured I'd spend an hour next to him and then we'd have our first break and I could cool off.

The teacher had arrived at some point while I was considering my table mate's mutant ability and 5 minutes before class was scheduled to start, he began his lecture.

No preamble, no introduction. We're talking about a jump from a dead stop to full on smartification mode. He stopped for a couple of moments when some people who were arriving late (actually they were right on time but apparently late is any time after he decides it's time to start talking) entered the room and then took a breath to introduce himself.

Where my art teacher had taken 35 minutes to tell us how she'd gotten into art and became a teacher, my anatomy teacher was done in less than two minutes. Military life, private sector, done. Aaaaand right back into the lecture.

Within those first five minutes, I realized that my panic from the previous night should have been reserved for this class. In that short period of time, I'd already filled two pages of notes with anatomy and physiology terms that meant absolutely nothing to me. I admit it. I was concerned.

We haven't even really cracked the textbook and so I decide to take a peek to see just how far I am in over my head.

At this point, I realize how bad off I really am. You see, I have the maturity level of your typical 12 year old male. Say "boobies" anywhere in my general vicinity and talking about the bird or not, I'm sure to giggle. I'll admit, it's something of an issue when dealing with normal people.

Unfortunately for me, the page I open to is a diagram of the human body. This is an Anatomy class and so the chances of me opening the book and finding a computer generated image of a nude female is probably not something you'd want to bet against.

Between my increasingly rattled nerves and having the maturity level of a pre-teen... I laugh.

Out loud.

At a computer generated image of a naked female.

Awesome.

Now that I have your attention, class, for my next trick, I'd like to show you how I can make fart noises with my hands.

After several long, uncomfortable moments, the teacher clears his throat and continues with what he's saying. I close my book before I come across a picture that results in my maturity level regressing even further.

When I'm able to focus again, I find that we're talking about "synovial joints"... I just write it down because it's obvious I'm in way over my head and I'm just going to have to tough it out at this point.

As the lecture concludes, the thought crosses my mind that the teacher hasn't called roll yet and at least I didn't have to deal with that bit of fun.

"I know some of you have noticed I didn't take roll," said he. Great, this dude's psychic as well as smarter than me.

It's a genius move on his part. He waits till the end of class to take roll. He's fully aware some people are inevitably going to sneak out when they think he isn't looking and this way, if they do, he's not going to talk to them about sneaking out of class or worrying himself about catching them, he's just going to mark them absent. I'm convinced at this point that the man is evil, pure evil.

With everything that's gone on to this point, I finally realize that there was no break to be had in all of this. Sitting next to a gentleman who could quite possibly serve as the sun for some distant world, I can't even separate what constitutes nervous sweat or just plain "it's hot in here" sweat.

There's very little comment or worry over my name. Apparently, in this class, I'm seated amongst others who bear odd names and mine produces not so much as a raised eyebrow.

Finally, my three hour stint in hell is over. I'm now wearing this look on my face:

As I leave the room, I briefly consider faking my own death in order to get out of coming back to this class.

More to come.