Still in debt from financial student aide, I'm about 30 units away from acquiring two college degrees; one in child development and the other in journalism.
The reality of the situation is that I'd need about 50 units of higher education to get the required 30 or so units of classes that count toward a degree. Psychology and history are the only two general education classes I've completed toward a degree.
I failed beginning writing in 2011, but my awesome professor gave me a C plus, which makes me eligible to take the next two English classes toward a degree. I've taken more than a 100 units in college, mostly child development and media classes.
Journalism was easy for me, but English, which I also flunked in high school my junior year and had to repeat my senior year has been difficult enough, and I'm even worse in math. By today's standards I'd put myself at a fourth grade math level, so that's about 12 or 14 math classes I'd need to complete just to take the one or two classes that count toward a degree, hence, I'm regretting not gone to college right out of high school.
Many moons ago, I often daydreamed of success, having a wife and kids, but those dead dreams have faded into a new pursuit of happiness. While my social ineptness has pulverized the chances of marriage and a relationship, one thing is clear, I love getting old. As my dad used to say, dying young is worse than getting old.
When I was young, I at least tried to date and work with children, and realized how pathetic I was at doing both, so currently, I have no regrets about not being married or having children. The few, and I emphasize few women I have gone out with, and even lived with two different ones during separate chapters in my life, I've concluded being alone is awesome.
Children making play dough when I taught preschool.
I answer to no one, except work, and my lack of success has its depressing moments I admit, but having a pound of wisdom as opposed to an ounce of one, I embrace a steady job and income as opposed to killing myself or being homeless.
When all you needed to work with preschoolers was Early Childhood Education units and of course passing a background check, I got to work with children professionally for about six years. Four of those years where at the YWCA, A Children's Place. Working at a Children's Place was the best. For most of my time there I was living with Debby and her three children. Most of the parents really liked me, because I was quote unquote normal. Back then I was living with Debby, and practically a step father for her three children including Alondra who was in my group, the Brown Bears. The harsh reality and grieving details about Alondra, aka Ali bear are detailed in my Jan. 27, 2014 blog, "Farewell Ali..."
2001 staff at A Children's Place
On a cheery note, my life experience with Debby and her three children, especially her youngest Ali bear, taught me the wonderfulness of being alone. Had I gotten married and fathered children of my own, they would have been insatiable brats. Children don't listen to a word I have to say, at least if it's about something their supposed to do or not do. Because I was with Debby and worked as preschool teacher, I learned what a horrible dad I would have been, hence no regrets about being a sole entity now.
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