Butterflies in my gut, perhaps?
Or worms of worry, eating serenity?
First class starts in two hours,
And I feel just a bit unprepared.
Not sure how strict they'll be
About the drawings I'm to produce,
Or the time to devote outside of class...
Worried that computer problems at home
May tangle up my time,
Send me to a lab as yet unknown.
Not sure if work will interfere,
With its long hours, late at night
Making it hard to produce during daylight.
Some frustration around finances, too...
Waiting for money to appear
That was promised last weekend -
Even then, it may not be quite enough.
Why am I taking this class?
...Honestly?
To try to better my skills,
To become a computer worker,
To back out of the dead end
I seem to have found myself in:
Retail workers are a dime a dozen,
And the tutors have no students.
I do want to go to this class,
Yet I feel that I'm rushing in.
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