Steve Rogers waking up in post-WWII America after being frozen in ice for 50 years has a lot in common with a 32-year-old woman going to graduate school after being away from the classroom for 12 years. I thought about this as I sat in class taking notes quite different from the ones my classmates were.
I’m not a mom who plays. I will swing on the swingset at the park, or sit down in the living room with a board game. But I’m not running around the playground, swinging across the monkey bars, or taking a ball and glove to play some catch. I will build with LEGOs, but I’m not
Let’s make one thing clear. My age does not bother me. It never has. I don’t fear getting older, because that’s what is supposed to happen. I am 32 years old. Occasionally I pass for younger. Occasionally I feel younger. Other times, I feel older. Like the first day of class. I felt old. Realistically, the
A week before my first graduate-level course and I received an email from my professor. He provided two readings that he wanted us to check out prior to the first day of class. The words in his email caused a little bit more fear to sneak in. Please do not get discouraged after reading these!
I’ve tried pills and pills and pills. I’ve counted sheep and ducks and cars that drive by. I’ve tried this yoga breathing technique, and blinking rapidly for 2, 3, 5 minutes. I’ve tried going to bed earlier, later, in my bed and on the couch and sprawled out in the recliner. I even tried the floor,