I Fondled The Scrubs Today

Day 2 of my first week back in school and I have sweaty palms for many reasons. At the top of the list is just getting the classes I need. I may have mentioned this before, but my community college had only 3000 students a couple of years ago, now they have 9000. (I blame the economy. The unemployed are flocking back to school.) Getting classes is tough enough, but for the high demand programs like Nursing, it's a real slug-fest.

I just need ONE more class -- Biology 160 in order to have what I need this quarter. Because the Nursing pre-reqs are sequential, not having this single class bars me from getting into the Anatomy courses for the next two quarters. Unacceptable, since I am living on savings and know I'll be outta dough if I need to tack on an extra quarter this fall. My plan is to bang out all the pre-reqs in 3 quarters, making me finished and ready to enter a the Nursing college this fall (if God only provides me the spot!) I only need one kid to drop the class in order to slide into this class tomorrow. Plan B is to find any open seat at any college within driving distance...but I hope it doesn't come to that. I have commenced "bargaining-type" prayers today.

Next on my list of worries is clearing out the cobwebs of my neural-learning centers and remembering that I once learned how to write a number in scientific notation! I can see already that most days will find me planted at the math tutoring center drilling this stuff into my head. Hate math. Is why I went to art school!  ;)

So anyway -- there I was in the student bookstore to buy my lab notebook (sewn binding required...why?) And I looked up to see the SCRUBS! I have been biting my nails, trudging back and forth between buildings in the freezing cold, with all of the aforementioned immediate concerns on my mind, and then I saw the scrubs. Oh yes...the reason why I'm here. I got a little giddy like the time I was at the Wynn Hotel in Vegas, in line at the coffee shop, and I found myself standing next to Nick Rhodes from Duran Duran! (I was a rabid fan as a teeny bopper. Even dressed up as him for the middle school Halloween Dance! He wore a lot of makeup like any good New Waver would.)

In any case...like a silly girl -- I had been wondering what color scrubs the students at my school would be wearing. (Just like when somebody tells me they just bought a new car, I ask them about the color before I care about the make!) They wear navy scrubs. I highly approve! Slimming dark color, not easily stained with the inevitable fluids that will, no doubt, be splashed upon them.

My sister, who is already a nurse, is looking forward to my many "firsts" during the whole Nursing school season of my life. First bed bath. First injection. And now I see that the first day I don the scrubs will mark a victory over: getting through the pre-reqs, applying and becoming accepted into the program, and countless others.

Seasoned nurses likely grow tired of wearing scrubs, in the same way I grew tired of the business executive ensembles I had to pull together every day of my working life. The grass is greener syndrome, no doubt. As a business woman, rising each morning to spend time time extracting a nearly infinite number of outfits from my over-stuffed closet -- I always envied the Star Trek guys with their agreed upon uniforms. For the guys, with their Dockers (groan) and button-downs, it's not so bad. But for us gals, well -- I for one, will be glad to be rid of that pesky decision each day. For now.

Speaking of the transition from the working world to school...I had some kind of PTSD thing going on over the holidays. Since my former life was scheduled in 15 minute segments, and in every 15 minute block I could expect 50 or more emails to arrive in my bloated in-box, I had developed an iPhone checking habit that bordered on OCD-Rainman-Like behavior. The first couple of weeks sans job, during the holidays, I robotically checked my now-empty calendar and inbox just to stare blankly at it when no new calendar invites were sent, no new emails arrived, and no calendar alerts blinked at me. Then I'd chuckle nervously--assuming something must be wrong with the server, only to repeat said behavior 5 minutes later. I am happy to report that by the end of the holiday, I had weaned myself off the iPhone (unless it was to play Cut the Rope.)

So...baby steps, right?