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It’s that time of year again, when what used to be called night classes but is now classified as ‘adult education’, is all set to start up for the autumn and winter. I get wildly excited at this time every year when I see the ads for the different courses, wondering what new wonderful new skill I can acquire over the winter months.
It used to be the choice was limited. It was a toss up between basic bookkeeping, beginners French or flower arranging. Now though the number and variety of courses is staggering. There’s everything from photography to a dozen different languages (for anyone wanting to speak in tongues maybe) and from desktop publishing to all manner of artistic pursuits, from sculpture to oil painting.
When it comes to dancing I can learn to kick up my heels or shake my booty in a variety of ways. Did y’all know for example that line dancing is still in vogue? Me neither. I can learn to belly dance, salsa dance, hiphop or even learn burlesque. There’s also ballroom and Latin American dancing, but it seems to me there are enough exponents of that kinda thing strutting their stuff on dance floors at weddings and parties without me joining in.
There’s curtain making, which I’d rather stay home and watch Nationwide while doing the whole neighbourhood’s ironing than endure. There are exercise regimes of all kinds. Zumba may be all the rage but organised exertion has never appealed to me.
There’s something called Sugarcraft Cake Decorating which sounds frivolous enough to appeal but, given my sweet tooth, I’d probably eat the ingredients before they got near a cake. Other choices are to learn to write a novel or know my car. The only thing I want to know about my car is that it’ll start when I want it to and take me where I want to go. I’ve no desire to familiarize myself with its inner workings, thank you.
I can learn to paint, cook, knit, restore furniture or design a website. I can acquire skills in everything from event management to electrolysis, archery to astrology, meditation to levitation.
Lots of choice then. Too much in fact. Will it be kick-boxing or playing the tin whistle? Creative felt-making or advanced psychic development (yes really, I can learn this of a Wednesday evening for eight weeks. I really can’t see myself as a psychic though. No pun intended.)
I could become an accordian-playing, kick-boxing multilinguist! The options are endless.
At the moment it’s a toss up between Taking Control of My Life and the FAS Safe Pass Programme. The former would allow me, over ten sessions, to divest myself of all my bad habits including ingrained martyrdom and learn to improve my relationships, be more assertive and self confident and manage my time better. All for €150. The thinking behind me taking the FAS Safe Pass course is that everyone else in the country seems to have done it at this stage and I’d hate to be the only one without a safe pass card, when that sudden upturn in the construction industry they are obviously expecting comes along.
The one drawback with all such courses is that they take place during the coldest, most miserable months of the year. Which means leaving the house when the fire is on and reruns of Four Weddings and Come Dine With Me, compete to tempt me to vegetate instead of educate.
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