First Group Meeting


Tuesday, around 11:00 in the morning I’m standing outside the classroom door waiting for my professor to arrive. I’m usually early only because I have another class from 9:10 to 10:30, then common hour starts. There were probably three other students also waiting for class to begin. Exchanging pleasantries every now and then with the others students I noticed one girl sitting on the floor with a black one inch three ring binder on her lap. She opens her binder and begins to take out what appears to be copies of her essay. I didn’t think anything of it at first but then I remembered we were supposed to have a group meeting in the near future. In my mind I’m thinking, “Is it today or Thursday? I hope its Thursday because I don’t have my copies for my group members.” I quickly blurt out to a fellow classmate, “Hey, are we supposed to be getting together in groups today? Yeah, aren’t you in my group?” Damn, I look at my watch; it is five minutes until 11:15 (class begins). Weighing my options of being late to class or not having my assignment I decide to make a run for the border. My strategy for choosing an apartment close to campus had paid off. I get home in five minutes or so.
I make it back to campus and low & behold there is not one available parking spot in front of the BH building. After circling for almost ten minutes hoping someone would magically appear and start to back out I give up and drive to the science side of the campus. I finally find a parking spot and rush back to class.
I’m glad I chose to go home and print out twenty pages (5 copies) of my masterpiece. I had no idea of what a great learning experience I was about to encounter. Who would have thought the personal essay would have been so personal. My group members and I all wrote very touching, private stories about an episode or phase in our life.
Sitting and listening to another person read their story aloud captured my attention immediately. I was listening to a part of their life and connecting with these strangers on another level beyond just being classmates. I became the best friend who they confided in, honored to be the sole recipient of this privileged information. Whether it was dealing with the loss of a brother, the birth of a child, having a tough childhood, or having a broken heart, we all wrote truths that were locked away in our hearts for who knows how long.
After this experience you can’t help but to feel a connection on a deeper level with the other group members. I have empathy for each one of my group member’s essays. I don’t know if the other groups have experienced this on their first session or even if my group members have the same feelings as I do.

My day begins with the alarm clock going off at 8 am. It has to be set to a music station. If I hear any kind of buzzing or ringing I wake up in a very bad mood; talk about a rude awakening. Rolling out of bed envious of my wife because I'm awake and she's asleep I turn off the alarm. Off balance and groggy it's straight to the bathroom to get the water running. My faucet has cold and hot markings on the knobs but the cold one is hot and the hot one is cold. The maintenance guy really screwed that one up. It takes at least 3 to 5 minutes before the water will get warm, damn water heater! Next I look in the mirror to see how much cole (also called sleep, depends on where you are from) I have in my eyes. I wonder if anyone else wakes up and there is so much build up you have to put effort into opening your eyelids, LOL! I assure you this is not an everyday thing just once in a blue moon. Once the water starts to get hot I turn around facing the rear of the shower to grab my washcloth. Behold! There are six washcloths hanging from the plastic bar. I swear that they spawn out of the plastic bar they dangle from. It is only two of us living here, why are there six washcloths hanging in the shower? I still can't figure this one out, wait a minute, women, need I say more. And don't let there be two of them that are the same color now I'm really puzzled. I usually only get four to five hours of sleep in the first place, now I have to use my brain to recall what towel I used last night, was it the dark blue one or the dark blue one with the bleach spot? When my common sense finally kicks in I just grab the one that is the driest to my touch. OK, now we're getting somewhere, washcloth "check," water hot "check," toothbrush "check," where the hell is the toothpaste? One time I almost used Preparation H by accident for toothpaste, hey the tube looks just like the toothpaste tube. That is why you have to let your brain wake up first before making these crucial decisions in the morning. Locating the toothpaste, I squeeze from the very end of the tube making sure it is as flat as a CD before I put some on my toothbrush. If you do not know, these instructions are on the tube. You would be surprised how much longer a regular tube of toothpaste will last if you use this technique every time you brush your teeth. Putting some toothpaste on your toothbrush requires skill, only true veterans can get paste to curl and fold over at the end just like they do in the commercials. Now here comes the test to see if I put the right amount of paste on the bristles of the toothbrush so that it can withstand the wetting of the whole ensemble. Sometimes the running water will knock the paste right off the bristles. I hate it when that happens now I have just wasted one inch of good, cool peppermint plus whitening with baking soda toothpaste. Now, I just squirt on another pasting with no patience, there's no pretty perfect curl at the end just forced on gel. But this time it sticks!