I have the craziest dreams

Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
The dear repose for limbs with travel tired;
But then begins a journey in my head,
To work my mind, when body's work's expired.

                                        -- That spear-shaking Dude of Avon

Wouldn't it be nice if I didn't have to defend the honor of my Alma Mater, battling to get Hoth CC to recognize her faculty's competence in teaching English, Speech, and Government?

Wouldn't it be nice if I didn't need to take three years (not including the above-mentioned classes, and math, and computer literacy) to get a paralegal certificate?  Maybe something that would take a year? Or -- dare I say it? -- even less?

Wouldn't it be nice if I didn't have to be in classes with students who spend their energy arguing about page count and font size for assignments rather than on learning?

Wouldn't it be nice if a Major University, home of an Impressive Law School, would offer a short, to-the-point, skills-based paralegal program that would carry the imprint of said University, rather than a community college?

Wouldn't it be nice if --

An elbow jabs me in the ribs, and I hear Spousie's voice say, "Hey! Wake up!"


"Whaa--"

"The presentation is over. You fell asleep." That's my friend Cagney.

"If you're planning to sign up for MU's paralegal program, you're not making a good first impression!" adds Lacey, Cagney's roommate.

"It wasn't a dream?"

"Starbucks," says a trio of voices, and I'm hauled to my feet and pointed toward the door.

Whoa. This could change everything...