At my parents urging

So, yeah, I went back to school. I didn't have much luck with it the first time I tried. I lost focus pretty easy, I don't think that will happen this as I have a strong focus this time. The first time I tried college I was solely focused on the degree, though I thought that knowing what I wanted to do with it was important. Now, I'm still focusing on the degree though, this time I don't really care what I study. Learning is learning and I need to continue practicing what it actually takes to learn, which is just a hint of discipline. Wait, it doesn't take discipline to learn, no, it takes discipline to put the knowledge to work.

I feel like a grandpa as I pull onto the campus for moving in weekend. The campus is teeming with young faced freshmen/freshwomen, surrounded by the parents that love them and that are "so proud". I remember my "move-on" day, the day I considered myself my own person. Once my parents left my sight and I, theirs, I was a free man. I was ready to make my own decisions. or at least that's what I though until I got the letter giving me the boot from formal education.

The way I pile everything onto my back, my head, and within my two arms I make sure that it will only take one trip to move everything I now own after a quarter of a century of living. Everything in one load and I still feel as though I held onto to much.

"Hey Aqualung" I think to myself as my eyes move along from freshwoman to freshwoman. Luckily I'm wearing sunglasses, shielding the true intent of my eyes from those that are falling victim. Only I know that how seductively my eyes can undress any woman.

Surrounding the entrance to the dorms, not even close to being outside of the 25 foot range that housing asks of all smokers, was a group of teenagers enjoying their first truly free cigarette. Free from listening to their parents nag to them the same rhetoric that every one uses. "You are just killing yourself. I know that you don't realize it yet, but you come to find out." I never had to deal with that as my lungs have felt the-what I would imagine to be-sting of tobacco smoke.

The shades didn't help me to see anything, while my arms where growing wary from overload, down the dimly, florescent lit hallway that seemed all too quiet to be a dorm hall. I found my room at the far end of the hallway, the farthest room I could have gotten from where I parked my car, without heading up to the next floor, the highest, the eighth floor.

There are no signs of any roommate showing up yet. Nothing in the bathroom, or anything anywhere else. I throw my things on the top bunk, staking my claim to it early(settler's rights). Grabbing the zip-lock bag from the back pack that now rests on my pile, I lock the door behind me and get back in my car.