kiwords

Today I was online, filling out an application to go back to college. I never finished my degree, did I ever tell you that? Yeah. I have something insane like 147 credit hours, yet no degree. That takes careful planning. I would be happy to sell you my ebook - "How to Enrich Your Local University and Never Ever Ever Obtain a Degree" for the bargain price of $12.99. If one million of you buy a copy, it will completely recoup the cost of my meandering and useless education. Nearly.

Oh, okay, here's the total sum of what would be in my imaginary ebook:

Step one - when you are within spitting distance of your degree, when it is two easy semesters away, decide on a total whim to move to another state. When your parents protest and froth at the mouth, wave away their concerns because WHAT COULD THEY KNOW ANYHOW? They only have - what? - four degrees between them. THEY COULDN'T POSSIBLY UNDERSTAND.

Step two - after you've moved, spent a year establishing residency, come to terms with the many many many lost credit hours from your transfer, and retaken classes that thrill you to your core, like ENGLISH 101, LORD HAVE MERCY, decide to change your degree.

Step three - then, change your minor. Pick one you hate and will never never finish. Hate it. Resist taking classes that will actually help you finish it. Because you hate it. 

Step four - take classes like yoga. Because you can. And it has nothing to do with your hated minor.

Step five - take twelve years off, because your second child was just born and you can't imagine being busier than you are right now. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA *wheeze* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA! 

There you go! That's exactly how to get nowhere, fast. Actually, nowhere, slowly.

Where was I?

Right, so I was filling out an application to go back to college. And in the middle of it, I tried to make myself a cup of tea. I say "tried" because what I actually did was get out a clean mug, drop a tea bag in it, and then turn on the burner BEHIND the one I meant to turn on. So instead of heating the kettle full of water, I turned a blazing heat on underneath a cast iron pan with the buttery residue from Clay's breakfast mushrooms.

Do you know what blazing heat does to buttery mushroom residue? It produces an AMAZING amount of smoke. While I was preoccupied with my application, the pan was producing great billowing clouds of smoke. I noticed just in time to race around and open all the windows so the whole neighborhood could hear our smoke alarms shrieking.

The boys stared through the clouds of smoke as I frantically waved a towel at the nearest smoke alarm and muttered darkly about husbands who are so obsessed with safety and fire codes that they positively STUD the house with smoke alarms AND wire them all together so they can all go off in piercing unison. Sophia knit her tiny brows and seemed to be considering a coup, so someone with sense could be in charge of the house at last.

When it was more or less over, the alarms were mercifully silent, and the air was back to mostly translucent, I looked over at the computer, quietly humming away, with my application glowing at me. I can't decide if my inability to safely produce a cup of tea means that application is a very bad idea...or even more important than I thought.