I just got back from my first two weeks of classes ...

And boy is my brain tired.

In one of the first algebra sessions, my prof was talking about math anxiety, and how some people hated math so much that they spent their entire college careers avoiding it until it's the last thing they need to graduate.

"That's four years without thinking about math," she said. "That only makes it harder."

It hit me afterwards that I hadn't seriously thought about math since before some of my classmates were born.

Here's how the night went before my first test:

Tuesday:

Noon: Get home from Tarrant County College. Pledge to spend all remaining free time reviewing for test, after I get a nap.

3 p.m.: Realize I can't sleep. Pledge to study from 9 p.m. (Sam's bedtime) to Midnight.

9 p.m.: Exhausted after not being able to nap. Prospect of going through two chapters of algebra too daunting. Pledge to get up at 4 a.m. the following morning to study.

11:45 p.m.: Nerves finally chill to point of allowing me to sleep.

First dream of night: I'm in a deserted British police station after dark. A mob is headed to the station, planning to break in and open the gun locker.

Wednesday

1 a.m.: Wife home, wakes me momentarily when she crawls into bed and tells me that she believes in me and "you can do it" for the sixth time in the last 24 hours.

Second dream: x2= (x-h)(x+k)/x+2 = A heavy dog shedding season.

3 a.m.: Wake up, realize that my combination of tossing, turning and snoring has driven wife to the guest bedroom. Hmmm ... Maybe I'll just get up at 5 a.m.

Third dream: I'm in a hotel past checkout time and I don't have the money for the bill. It's been an enjoyable stay, though.

5 a.m.: Wakey-Wakey. I take a very groggy, yet quietly desperate, review of quadratic and polynomial functions.

Not sure I can keep doing that for the next two years.

I made an A. Allowed myself a Tiger Woods fist pump.

Next test: Monday.

The strangest thought to hit me about the whole thing lately is how easy it is to get back into student mode. After a couple of days, you block out the fact that you're older than most everyone there and can't translate half of what they're saying to each other. You realize that 16 (or maybe 18.5) years of sitting in classrooms when you're young gives you a set of skills that aren't going to go away.