"Why?"

Since I've told only a few people about my decision to return to school after a decade layoff, I've had to herald only a few questions.

The most popular is, of course, why?

Well, why not? I want to teach special needs kids, and this is the next step in that process. Fortunately, it's a rather short step, too. I'll be teaching next August.

But you could be teaching already! True. I could also be climbing Mt. Everest. Despite the evidence to the contrary, there is a correlation. To be a better climber, I would need to spend time preparing. Think of school as my preparation time.

But you already have a graduate degree! Yeah, and? Still need the certification. Plus, that whole wanting to be better at my job thing.

What about money? You need money to do [insert any amount of things that I don't do and only a few that I do].

Ok, let's talk money. My boyfriend is currently deployed, which means, much to his dismay because he doesn't understand, that I do not go out on weekends. Sure, I could go out to clubs, and once in a while I go to the dive bar across the street if it's early enough that the locals aren't there, but c'mon. I live in a military town; for a female to go out and about when her other half is deployed is basically an announcement to the rest of the military that there is fresh meat on the market.

And even if I did go out, and unlike the rest of Ft. *****, behaved, it wouldn't matter. The rumor mill is strong here and although he and I have discussed not believing rumors and what not, he would hear from a friend that a friend of a friend saw me doing something with someone in a bathroom at one of the clubs. He probably wouldn't believe the rumor but really, I don't want to take the chance.

(When I was still single, right after my divorce, I did go out to the clubs. One night in particular a soldier offered to buy me a drink; who am I to turn down a free drink? We started talking and he mentioned that he was just back from a country in South America. About the time the conversation became really interesting, a woman in her 30s walked over to us and whispered in my ear, "The guy you're talking to? He's a great fuck. I get with him every time my husband is deployed." I decided to buy my own drinks the rest of the night.)

This line around me? It's the partition for the start of the drama free zone. If I want to drink, I'll grab a bottle of wine or a case and divvy it up with my friends outside. I'm not about to take the risk that just because I was bored and decided to go to the local meat market, all hell would break loose. It's my decision, and mine alone, and I support this decision.

Moving along. The boyfriend is deployed and I'm taking care of his place until he returns next year. This means that I actually have room and board and electricity and Internet paid for, courtesy of Uncle Sam, for the next year. All I have to worry about are my own personal bills, and I've saved up for those.

And another thing? The money issue really isn't anyone's business. Why complete strangers feel the need to ask me, "How are you going to go to school and not work and pay for things?" is beyond me. My only retaliation is to ask them how they manage to pay for their cars and homes and guns and whatnot while living on a blue collar salary.

That actually segues nicely to the next point. This area is a crime-infested, drug-addicted, meth-making hellhole that will suck the soul out of anyone who lets it. The only jobs available to the non military are in factories, convenience stores, or the local prisons.

Yes, prisons is plural. When I drove through Arkansas, there was a billboard I passed advertising for prison guards. In the picture was an attractive brunette and the words, "Prison Guards: Job Security" written beside her. The pun was cute but the message? That could apply here.

On occasion, I go online and search the state prison website to see who I might know. I've found quite a few people I went to high school with, which explains why they missed the high school reunion. I'm still looking for my brother's picture; he's been to prison at least four times in the past five years, but his picture isn't online. He must have one heck of a lawyer.

So that would be the other reason, as two fold as it is. I do not want to work in a factory, or a convenience store, or a prison. I also want to help students stay out of the latter, if that is at all possible in this area. If they choose to work in a factory or convenience store or even work in a prison, then so be it. Those are respectable jobs.

Most importantly, though, this is what I want to do and I'm going to do it. If I were to wait until a "better" time, I might never go. There's no such thing as a "better" time if there is something a person wants. There might be preparation needed, and there might be planning, but if there's something to go after, we might as well take a risk and go after it. Even a risk not taken is still a risk.