Feeling...Mature

I entered the university admissions office dressed like I was going to a job interview. From my floral-print linen blouse to my sensible shoes, I was the picture of sensibility, commitment, and drive, a 'future teacher' poster child if there ever was one. Without a lick of hesitation, I presented myself to the receptionist. 

"I'm here for Campus Orientation.  Am I in the right place?"

"You sure are, honey." She handed me a course calendar, campus map and name tag. "Have a seat over there."

I followed the line of her hand to a large cluster of chairs behind me where sat at least a dozen other prospective students — with their parents.  To make matters worse, I'd missed the 'jeans only' memo. I had a sudden urge to colour my hair. 

A lot has changed since my last university experience.  For instance, the campus library stays open until 4a.m. and serves munchies at midnight. I told my tour guide, a bright-eyed junior, that I hadn't been up at 4a.m. with any regularity since breast feeding. She smiled incredulously. "Really?"  

That was it: I would buy some Clairol on the way home. 

In all honesty, I expected no less.  The good news is that I've been accepted to study education in the fall at an NCATE-accredited school only fifteen minutes from home. So what if I'm the oldest person in the room.  It's worth it.