Affine White Girl

You know you ought to slow down
You been working too hard
And that's a fact
Sit back and relax a while
Take some time to laugh and smile
Lay your heavy load down
So we can stop and kick back
It seems we never take the time to do
All the things we want to
"Take Your Time"--SOS Band

Hell to the yeah on that one, boys and girls!

I am rocking out to my favorite 12" disco hits this morning, knocking back some strong coffee and grooving like I'm in sequins and lycra instead of baggie sweats and faded Key West t-shirt.  As my friend Antoine used to tell me, I dance like a white girl... but a fine white girl!  Not sure Antoine would find me overly fine covered in Cheerio stains, but what the hell.  I'm sexy and I know it.  Snicker.  (Side note for my mathy friends.  Brenda Fallon: Affine White Girl)

This weekend marks the end of any free time I might have for a while.  I am taking not one... not two... but three online courses this summer.  Stupid?  Probably.  The odds of me holding that 4.0 GPA through the summer are not good.  But I am 43.  I want my Ph.D.  I have to grow a pair of balls, and bust 'em relentlessly, if I'm going to make this work.

It's scary that every single person I've talked to has begged me not to do this.  I can't do it.  It's too much.  I'll never survive.  I'll be miserable.  My health and my sanity will fail me. 

Yeah, they're probably right.  But what have I got to lose?  A couple thousand in tuition and books, and a few points off my average?  Eh.  I've risked less and lost more.  I've lived loud, fast and furiously for a couple of decades now.  This would be a shitty time to turn into a milqetoast.

A small aside: Godspeed, Ms. Donna Summer.  When I was a little girl in rural Washington County, I danced and sang to your music for hours on end, convinced I, too, would one day be a star.  I never won a grammy, but I did trade my hairbrush for a bonafide microphone, and spent ten years as a fairly successful musician.  I owe you much.  Thank you.