Driving Miss Obnoxious

Today is the last day of my very last post-licensing class to become a full provisional real estate broker.  Right in the nick of time to leave my job and any immediate chance of being able to use it. 

 

But that is neither here nor there.  I'm happy I have it, I plan to use it in the future, and I can still get referral fees in the meantime.  Hint, hint ;)

 

Let me add that this is the last 30-hour class of 3 30-hour classes.  For a total of 90 post-licensing hours.  In addition to the 75 hour pre-licensing class that I took in 2012.  For a whopping 165 hours in all.  That is just so, so many hours of my life spent sitting in a chair.  I don't even like to think about it.

 

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The first day I walked in the class (last Monday), the teacher actually yelled out, "WOAH, mama is close!"  Now every day subsequent to that I think all of my classmates are terrified that my water is going to break at any moment and cause a ruckus.  It's kind of fun to watch the fear in their eyes when I make any sudden movements.  But also really scary because I myself am terrified my water is going to break at any moment as well.  So, there's that.

 

I think today is the day that I go into dramatic faux labor.  I've gone 9 months without trying to punk anyone into believing it is happening.  Now is my time to shine.  And by shine I mean scare the shit out of perfect strangers.

 

I haven't played a cruel joke on true strangers since I was 15 years old in Drivers' Ed Class.  I took the class at Page High School and I was the only student in attendance who did not actually go to Page High School.  All of my high school classmates took Drivers' Ed from some private guy named Charlie Brown.  My mom thought that was ridiculous so I went public.  And it took about 2 classes before one clever fellow started calling me "Day School" and it stuck with the whole gang. 

 

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As it turned out, that clever fellow was in my practice driving group of 3 people that got to cruise around various parts of town and practice parallel parking, driving no the highway, and generally not killing other drivers. 

 

On the last day of class/practice driving I'd had just about enough of this "Day School" crap.  So when it was my turn to be dropped off at home, I went ahead and directed them to the biggest house that I knew of, maybe the biggest house in Greensboro, and got them to pull right up the driveway to "my house". 

 

The look on the name caller's face as his jaw dropped to the floor was priceless.  Suddenly "Day School" wasn't so hilarious after all!

 

But I only let the shock last a few beats before I told them I was kidding and actually lived elsewhere.  Good times.  Good times.

 

Moral of the story: Don't call people names.  They might just end up being a tricky little bitch who is going to temporarily school your ass at the end of Drivers' Ed.

Gon' Get My Learn On

Tonight marks the beginning of a new era.  I'm officially becoming a woman. 

 

Just kidding, I'm starting a class to get my real estate license.

 

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Part of me is excited because academia was literally the only thing I was good at in school.  Sports, not so much.  I love taking notes, taking tests, kicking ass and taking names. 

 

The other part of me is clinically depressed because the class is every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday from 6pm-9:45pm for just over a month and a half.  That's a lot of weeknights spent in a classroom.  Which translates to a lot of nights I will not be spending on my couch with a glass of red wine.

 

While I'm not sure if my brain is even still capable of classroom education, there is one thing I'm sure of.  That during this period my husband is either going to live off of a steady diet of frozen pizza, or that he will starve to death.

 

I'll be the first to admit that I've spoiled him a little by making all of his meals for the week, but I do it because I like to.  Now, with what is going to essentially be a total loss of free time, I'll be damned if I'm going to spend my precious 15 free minutes on the weekdays making turkey sandwiches or serving up a nice chicken picata. 

 

So we will have to see how this plays out.  The three possibilities I see are that he either A) Survives off of Pizza and Hardee's, B) He re-learns how to cook even the simpliest of cuisine, or C) He loses 20 pounds in a month and a half because he either forgets to eat or refuses to go to the grocery store.

 

I, on the other hand, who has never forgotten to eat a meal in her whole life, am very curious if I'm going to manage to eat dinner during this time.  It looks like unless I choose the early bird special or go straight-Euro and eat at midnight, I'm going to be knawing on some mid-evening almonds for the rest of 2012 and calling it din din. 

 

I've got my notepad ready, a cool pen, and a fresh pack of highlighters.  (NERD ALERT!)  Real Estate Class, here I come!