Mom – this post is for you ~ Love ya!
Every time I make a payment for my student loans, I silently curse King Lear. He’s the one that got me in this mess in the first place. How could I have possibly fortified myself against the lure of intellectual discourse as a young girl in an adult college writing course? A room full of adult people conversing about literature? Debate regarding a Shakespearian play? DISCUSSION! They were talking about something they read and they weren’t expected to write about it using power paragraphs. No one I knew discussed books or plays. No one I knew even read plays. Like I said, I was defenseless.
On second thought, maybe it’s my Mother’s fault. Curse her for bringing a precocious 12 year old child to her writing class at the community college she was attending. And curse the professor, as well, for allowing me to participate in the discussion. That could only lead to trouble. Shakespeare definitely should take a part of the blame. Him with his intriguing plays and enticing language; I was sucked in from the get go.
Mom had to have had an inkling of what might result. Didn’t I always have my name on the chalkboard, in the upper left-hand corner, at school for talking too much? Didn’t every report card note my inability to sit quietly in a classroom? They were all plotting against me with their evil plans to make me want to go to school …perpetually. Elementary school, Jr. High, High School, Community College, University then Graduate School. Avoiding adult responsibility is not cheap. Not. Cheap. At. All.
I’d like to get my Doctorate one day, but I need funds. Serious funds – because I don’t plan to get it in anything sensible or reasonable (why break the trend after all these years?). Since I’m not doing it to make more money, someone has to pay for my obsession. I think it should be one of the scoundrels mentioned above. And I think out of all of them, King Lear is the only one with any kind of serious dosh.
Oh wait – it’s Shakespeare – Lear’s dead. Damn.