It was exciting to pick out courses. I ran around like an 18 year old all over the pretty campus, trying to get the lay of the land. Finally, I made my way to the bookstore. Buck was there, patiently waiting, thumbing through a magazine.
I looked at my schedule again and then my watch. “Eek!” I cried. “My first class starts right now!” I ran up an empty check-out aisle, receiving a stern admonition from one of the cashiers. In my hurry, I dropped the stack of papers with my schedule and the book list, picked it up again, then went to the nearest stack of books, screeched to a halt and put my the flat of both hands on them.
“What the heck am I doing?”
I sheepishly walked back to Buck. “This is silly. We live three hundred miles away. I can’t go to classes here every day.”
He gave me one of those “I knew that; I was just waiting for you to figure it out” kind of looks.
And then I woke up.