(no subject)

Last fall, Mike and I were talking about school. He'd been planning on going back and getting a degree in computer aided manufacturing. Maybe it's just that I couldn't imagine being happy with a career in computer aided manufacturing. Anyway, I said, "What do you really wish you could do?"

"Fly."

We were on IM, so there was no way for me to really gauge his mood by voice or expression, but there seemed a kind of wistfullness in his one word reply.

"So do it," I typed back. "Go to commercial flight school."

There was a long pause. Then, "That's a good idea."

So, we're in the process of picking a flight school. It's expensive, holy wah. But what the hell is money for, ya know?

And then, about a month ago, we were talking about one of Len's doctors. "I bet you'd get into that kind of thing," he typed.

My heart kinda twinged. "Yeah, well, there's no way I can go to medical school now."

"Think about it -- after I get out of flight school, and get a job. It's doable."

Now it's all I can think about. Medical school. Huh. I'd be at least 51 by the time I finished my residency. But I applied to NMU this week and requested my transcripts from UofM, and next week I'll talk to the premed advisor.