Other than coming face to face with a possible future version of myself as a teacher, my first class back at college was pretty uneventful.
Except for the speaking thing. The thought of speaking up in class made me clench up like I was passing kidney stones. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that, in January 2006, talking in class WAS a lot like passing kidney stones. Horrifyingly painful and with a trail of blood behind it.
The next semester was better. I had a full course load and a summer off behind me.
That, and it was the semester I met Mike.
Lyrical Fool 