How to make adult nirvana a reality

Do you ever hear about kids going off to college and wish you were back in college too? Kids these days don’t know how great they have it. What if we, as grown adults, got to go back to college and live in the dorms? I’m going back to college, baby! Going back to college is how I intend to make adult nirvana a reality. It would only be heaven though if I went with my friends. We’d live in dorms, all next to one another. The dorm residents would be a mixture of our long-time best friends, and “newer” friends acquainted from kid’s sports or school. The entire term would be adult-only. These universities would encourage enrollment of dog students too. Dogs would attend our classes, roaming the campus. They could take some courses of their own if they so choose.

My husband would be my roommate.

Forget rooming with strangers from another town, my husband and I would enroll in the same university and would live in the dorms together. We’d have a king bed, with pictures of the kids on either nightstand. My roommate and I would share the microwave and a toiletries caddy. It wouldn’t be a run-of-the-mill dorm. Instead, it would be larger than usual, and our walls would be soundproof. We would live a life of college-leisure. Mornings would consist of sleeping in or going on long runs. I would join the university swim team because, why not? No worries, other swimmers would be old too. My roommate and I, like normal roommates, would have separate classes. We’d meet up for meals and at night for parties or to study. We’d cut class together and go to the beach because, in my dream, I would go to school near some body of water.

The dorm would be the center of everything.

Random football games might take place in the halls. We’d host progressive parties in each of our dorm rooms complete with a DJ, catered food and staff serving appetizers all night long. We’d regularly have the opportunity to get into long, philosophical discussions because we wouldn’t have to “be at work in the morning.” We’d have a bar on the bottom floor, with a windowed view of a lake or ocean. Lattes, cappuccinos, and random Diet Mountain Dew room service would be free, any time of day. The ground floor would have 50 TVs, each with their own remote and a matching Lazyboy chair in which a husband could slumber. Someone other than me would be responsible for keeping the bathrooms clean.

How is this different from an all-inclusive resort, you ask?

In case you forgot, a college is a century-old institution of learning. It’s not a 24/7 party. I would choose to be a Second Life major. It’s somewhat new, so you may not have heard of this major. In layman’s terms, Second Life majors are those that are figuring out what they want to be when they grow up. I’d be taking 12-16 units consisting of photojournalism, culinary arts, sports psychology, art history, and triathlon workshop. I would consider a review in statistics as that would help my Vegas earnings climb too. My husband would take Econ so I’ll avoid that course and read his notes instead. I’d have time to read and write to my heart’s content.

The kids would live at home.

We’d receive the stamp of approval from CPS too. Our kids would be functioning human beings and would get themselves to school and their extracurricular activities, despite being too young to drive. These fabulous kids would be responsible and only have a few friends over at one time. They’d clean up after themselves, have plenty to eat, do their homework, and go to bed at the proper time. Goodness me, they’d even wear clean clothes.

Money wouldn’t be a problem.

My husband will have gone on a paid sabbatical and I’d have a university scholarship. The dean would have seen such potential in my fifty-year-old self and allowed me to pay 5% of the tuition. I would be that special. No classes would be offered before 11A so that would allow for a workout, and daily brunches, especially when greasy food was a necessity. I would take on a week-long, part-time job. My Ideal: selling cotton candy at a sporting event, so I can say “Get your COTton-candy, He-ya!”

This notion of vacation, I mean continuing education, would last one term. We’d come home for Summer Break having aced every class; after all, I will have paid close attention to the lectures and assignments and taken it more seriously this time around. I would feel refreshed, uber smart, and ready to re-engage in my regular life again. This kind of enlightenment doesn’t come around often, so I’d be extremely grateful for the opportunity. Plus, our kids would miss us too much.