Maybe I'm Not The World's Oldest College Student...

At the outset, I would like to assure my readers that I do not possess, nor have I EVER possessed (let alone set eyes upon) a hand grenade...it is, rather, a metaphor for the life of a typical working woman, whether married or single, with or without children...like juggling hand grenades and praying that you don't accidentally pull out the pins!

I dropped out of college in the mid-1980s, after realizing that I was living on an income that was so far below the poverty line that poor people were richer than me. For example, at that time my idea of a rip-snortin'-living large-no holds barred celebration was a plate of hot tamales and all the fresh chips and salsa that you could eat at La Casita Dos. Sad, isn't it?

So I set out to work and earn a decent wage as a secretary. Held quite a few jobs, most of which were reasonably enjoyable. Some not so much...(one accounting firm I worked for actually drove me to drink for the first and last time in my life.) I didn't get rich, but my standard of living certainly improved.

At that point in my life I was a full time art student at the University of Alaska Anchorage (UAA). My friend Elaine, a fellow Starving Artist, warned me that if I dropped out I'd probably never go back to finish my degree. Well, she was partly correct...it took me 26 years to dredge up the courage to set my foot on the path back to that elusive BA, but here I am - look out, world!