08-22-2013, 08:49 AM
For Sid Rhodes, August was a quiet month, at least to start. Then a friendship cracked and splintered apart. Then the friend of a friend was hurt. Then there was a frantic struggle to make sure she had everything in order for classes. Continuing education classes? Graduate studies?
No. Sid will be going for her Bachelor's degree. Again, but for the first time according to her records. According to her records Sid Rhodes only has a high school GED, something she went online and earned a mere three or so years ago. Beyond those records, though, is a different story altogether.
Which sucks. She tries not to think about it when she goes to the UCD bookstore to drop a paycheck on textbooks. She tries not to think about it when she boots up her workstation computer first thing Monday morning.
And she certainly tries not to think about it when she's in a classroom Monday evening, sitting somewhere near the back with her notebook out and her head down, with a person younger than her passing out a syllabus of the most basic course structure.
She probably won't last. It's too much to ask, putting her back at square 1 when she had already stepped off the board and was preparing to step onto a new one. But if she wants to do something meaningful in this new life, she has to try, right? At least she tested out of the lower level math and English courses, and at least most of her classes take place online.
So she goes, and she tires, and she does what she must because she can.
No. Sid will be going for her Bachelor's degree. Again, but for the first time according to her records. According to her records Sid Rhodes only has a high school GED, something she went online and earned a mere three or so years ago. Beyond those records, though, is a different story altogether.
Which sucks. She tries not to think about it when she goes to the UCD bookstore to drop a paycheck on textbooks. She tries not to think about it when she boots up her workstation computer first thing Monday morning.
And she certainly tries not to think about it when she's in a classroom Monday evening, sitting somewhere near the back with her notebook out and her head down, with a person younger than her passing out a syllabus of the most basic course structure.
She probably won't last. It's too much to ask, putting her back at square 1 when she had already stepped off the board and was preparing to step onto a new one. But if she wants to do something meaningful in this new life, she has to try, right? At least she tested out of the lower level math and English courses, and at least most of her classes take place online.
So she goes, and she tires, and she does what she must because she can.