I’ve been in school for 18 years now. Since I really don’t remember much from the first three years of my life, I can’t recall any point in my life where I wasn’t going to class. I have met many good people and had countless positive experiences.
While I definitely have learned a lot in grammar school, high school and college, my maturity is questionable. I’ll relay the following anecdotes from my previous 18 years and let everyone decide how far along I have come.
When I was in third grade I got sick and vomited in my classroom’s trash can and was sent home from school early. A few days later when I went back to school my teacher sympathetically asked me if I was feeling better.
One time during my freshman year of college I vomited in the bushes on my way to class after a long night of drinking. I must have looked so bad that after class instead of asking me if I was feeling all right my teacher asked me if I had a “problem.”
One day after kindergarten my friend and I were horsing around in my living room. He pushed me into my couch and I bumped my head so hard that I had to go to the hospital and get three stitches.
Last week I was at the Black 47 concert horsing around and my friend came up and tackled me. I hit my head on the dirt so hard that I was knocked unconscious and I woke up in the hospital with a .2 BAC and an IV in my arm.
I asked the nurse why I was there and she told me that I had a really low blood sugar level. Always the helpful person, I responded by telling her that she could give me a cup of sugar water and we could call it even.
And finally . . .
In first grade I accidentally peed my pants on my way to the bathroom. I was so embarrassed that I went to the nurse’s office and they sent me home for the rest of the day.
Over spring break I intentionally peed my pants at a club because my friends dared me to. I was so proud of being cooler than Miles Davis that I did it eight more times in the same night.
I’ve got so much more growing up to do.
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