In The Weeds

Yesterday I registered for my last semester of college, and I'll be honest with you— I felt pretty damn good. I conquered many obstacles along the way, including trying to explain to the Director of the English department what the class "Language in America" was. "It was 1978," I told him. "Your guess is as good as mine." But in May, at the age of 57, I will be a college grad. #nailedit.

I decided to treat myself with a dinner from Fresh Kitchen and I was giving myself the royal treatment. "You totally deserve it," I told myself. Instead of ordering the 4 bowl with 2 bases and 1 veg and 1 protein, I went for the gold. I got 2 proteins! I could get used to this, I thought, thinking of the major publishing job I will get now that I have a college degree. I will probably have to get a little place in New York City when Simon and Schuster hires me, this of course is before my novel skyrockets to number 1 and the movie begins filming. I should have done this years ago, like maybe before my knees started making that hideous creaking noise every time I bend them.

I placed my order on Uber eats, I mean seriously, I'm going to be a college graduate. Let the food come to me. Delivered right to my door, busy college graduates like myself don't have time to go out for dinner. We must stay focused, at home, being smart, reading books and staying on top of the latest world events. Speaking of which, I'm so glad Imagine Dragons beat out Cold Play at the music awards. I've never liked Cold Play for some reason.

I watch the seconds tick away on my iPad, keeping a close eye on my driver's progress. Food has been picked up! Five minutes, four minutes...and finally I see her pull up. I run to the door like a dog who hears his owner coming home at the end of the day.

I opened the door to find the uber driver staring at me as though she had seen a child's arm sticking up from the ground by the palm tree in my yard. She glowers at me as I reach for the bag, and I gently take if from her so that she doesn't throw it at me. I hand her a five dollar tip, I mean, I'm almost a college graduate, I can afford it. Hopefully this will cheer her up and make whatever is causing her to be so angry, a little less intense. "Here you go, thanks!" I say and begin to close the door.

"You know," she says with a look of pure disgust on her face, "These flowers take  FULL SUN." "What flowers?" I am thinking and then she points to the brown weeds in the cement planter by my front door.  She's right. There are flowers there! I never really noticed there were flowers in there, I mean in my defense, I usually go in through the garage. "You need to replant them in the front," she states,  looking at me as if I had said, "Hi! I just murdered my dog." I am thinking, "Have a little respect, I am almost a college graduate" and she is thinking "You are a moron."

I ask her, "Do you think they will come back?" which is my way of asking "Did you spit in my food?" She looks at the remnants of whatever those poor things once were, looks at me and shakes her head. Then she turns and walks back to the car.

"Well," I think as I head to the table with my dinner. Not going to let that pop my balloon. Still, it did sort of take the wind out of my sails a little bit. As I devoured my bbq chix/tuna, parmesan broccoli and kale mix I thought of the classes I would be taking in my final semester; Short Fiction, Writing Genres, Portfolio Class. "It can't hurt" I think. Tomorrow I will call my advisor and tell him to add Horticulture 101 to my schedule. I mean, us smart soon-to-be college grads know you should always have a Plan B.

Ex-Wife New Life: living life newly single at 50 while overcoming the pain of divorce and moving on. Visit us @ OR participate @


Popular posts from this blog

Rollin' With The Tide

A Matter of Degrees