A case of the Mondays has been scheduled for Thursday

So, I am all excited to start school. Except for the first day. Day after tomorrow.

I'm in my little study-nook area, where untold amazing things will start to pour into my noggin soon. It's late, but I power-napped today... just because I could. So it's me, a cup o' tea, and Teslagrl's younger and weirder cat, who is apparently diggin' the wood floor because she's rubbing her back on it. So this is what they get up to at night. No wonder they rest up for it all day.

I have most of my forms filled out; the school I was at last year will be sending some immunization stuff, and the school where I did the distance Biochemistry course will send a transcript just as soon as they get the request for it. I read the online orientation info and the student handbook. I have begun to feel like a medical student.

For the Biochem, by the way, I got my usual chemistry grade. Which is to say, I'm a little better than average, but it's clear I'll never be an actual chemist. I always heave a big sad wet sigh of regret when I find that out, but somehow I soldier on.

I know where and when to catch my train on Thursday morning. I cajoled the Future Wife into giving me some cash so I can buy a ticket and everything. (All I had to do was promise not to call her "mommy" when I ask for stuff like that.)

I even have a classmate living a mere four or five blocks away. This will be my daily commuting (and studying) buddy. I guess she'll need some kind of blog code name, but I don't know her well enough for one to present itself yet.

When I left my former job, one of my cohorts in the maroon-scrub-wearing ranks of the ER techs gave me a present: she had gone school shopping for me following the template of shopping for her kids. It was sweet, and wicked useful. Now I have notebooks and pens and a bitchin' stack of note cards, and a box to put 'em in.

I even got myself some new shoes, after about a year of listening to everybody yap about how great Nike Shox are -- and about five seconds after realizing that actually, clogs still look really ugly to me, and anyway in my new lifestyle I'll be sitting down, sometimes.

So, why am I not completely pumped? Why am I a little "mehh" about this orientation day thing? They're providing food, after all.

It's because aside from a tour and some introductions, most of the day will be team-building exercises. Ewwwwww.

I spent twelve years in the corporate world. During some of the most fun years, I was one of those corporate trainers. Although I had my cranial vault firmly incarcerated a fair piece inside my own rectal vestibule, even the younger and far stupider version of me could tell that some of that forced jocularity is just wrong. I know, we have a limited time to stop being 50 to 60 individual schmoes and become a class. We'll have some heavy cadaver-lab stuff to deal with, as a class, as soon as next week. We need to learn a little about who's next to us in the classroom and at the tank. It's a necessary evil. But it's still evil.

Some glimpses of the day, based on photos I saw as part of the tour when I interviewed, and now in the handbook, make me suspect company-picnic-style physical challenges. Didja see "The Office" a couple weeks ago?

I will most assuredly have to say something about it later. But if I don't, it's because it was too horrible to recount, and I've chosen to just move on and concentrate on something more pleasant... like my dead guy.