Back to school, back to school...

About once a month, I have the same nightmare.

The details change, but the heart-stopping terror is always the same.

 

It goes a little something like this...

I wake up late and rush to class, only to realize I forgot to put on pants.

I turn to run out just as the professor calls me up to give a giant presentation that I completely forgot to put together.

And the thing is, I always wake up far more mortified over my lack of preparation than my lack of pants.

I think there might be something seriously wrong with me.

 

Sometimes the dream involves a forgotten final, an unfinished paper or a hard drive being wiped clean.

 

College, man.

It does a number on the psyche.

Tonight, for a few hours, I assumed the role of university student once again, this time fully awake.

Several of Reece's professors offered to teach a few classes for the MBA spouses -- giving us a taste of what our husbands/wives do all day (besides playing foosball in the lounge).

 

I've been pretty jazzed about the whole thing since I signed up over a week ago.

I had every intention to memorize the cases we were asked to study beforehand, so that if I were to become the victim of the dreaded "cold call," I could stun those PhDs with my wit, intelligence and charm.

Yeah, ten minutes before I had to leave, I realized I hadn't even opened the email that contained said cases.

A lot can happen in a week.

I'm not kidding when I say the panic that always awaits me the moment I wake up from my recurring nightmare hit me like a school bus, and I nearly hyperventilated.

 

Reece had to remind me about a dozen times that I was going to be fine, that this was just for fun and that I needed to get a freakin' grip.

Turns out he was right.

I was fine.

I called upon my BS skills (honed to perfection as an undergrad) to avoid any major catastrophe when called upon.

And I even remembered to wear pants.

I actually quite enjoyed myself.

I've said it before, and I'm about to say it again:

I'm so incredibly grateful that Reece gets to do what he's doing -- working with some of the best and the brightest people in the world and learning phenomenal life lessons along the way.

I am glad I get to be a part of it too.

But I'm really, really glad I don't have to be the one in class every day, because I think all my hair would fall out.

He's a lot better at handling stress than I am, and he prefers to go pantsless anyway...