First Class has no "Chub Chair"

So, two years ago, I got a bright idea. (Not that the idea hadn't already popped in and out of my head for the last 20 years or so) I decided to go back to college. Our only child, a son, was in high school, my husband was working each week day, and the bright idea went from whispering, to tapping on my shoulder, to smacking me in the head. My husband with all of his diplomacy said,"Anyone with any sense, knows you need to be in school." That was my call, I guess one could say. I knew he was right.



The first day I went to school, youth swarmed the campus like bees in a hive. Overwhelmed, I went to my first class. When I walked in the door, my "Alice in Wonderland" nightmare came true. You know when, Alice grows and grows...and until she is so big she pops out of a house? There were about 25 desks facing me as I slowly walked through the door. As I looked around the room, I honestly thought I saw the "Sweat Hogs" hanging out at the back of the room...It was either them or one of the gangs from "West Side Story".The desks were toddler size. My backside was not. My head told me to just sit down...my rear end pleaded with me not to...I sided with my head and sat down. One cheek slid in and the other left hanging like a boulder about to topple down a mountain. While sitting lopsided in the desk, I was desperately thinking of some way I could escape. Looking at my schedule I held in my hand, I said,"Oh. I'm in the wrong class," which was a lie. I slid my right cheek out of the desk and never looked back. "I don't belong here," is all I could think.

With shoulders slumped and my head down, I walked through the parking lot to my car. Someone yelled at me from nearby building. It was a friend of mine, one who had already done a lot of encouraging. She waved and called my name. She was 40 at the time and getting her nursing degree. Somehow, this gave me some strength that I needed. A smile from a friend will do that for you.

I dropped the course with the teeny tiny desks and moved on with my first semester. Soon, I learned to go to class early the first few days of each semester, and sit at a table and chair that would be somewhere in each class. Fondly, I now call this the beloved "Chub Chair". The first year, it was nerve racking to walk into a class and search for the Chub Chair. "What if I couldn't get to it before another "chub" got it." "What if I go in and this class doesn't have one!" What if, what if, what if... What if's have held me back from so many things that might have been great. Learning to cope is a valuable tool in the chest or rather backpack.