Archive | 6:36 AM


16 Jan

I was determined that the second half of my day would be better.  I found my next lecture location 110-C and sat outside of it, reading my notes.  Class began at 1:30 PM.  At 1:20 PM, I started seeing a lot of students down the hallway.  I could hear them saying, “110-B–I thought the schedule said 110-C?”  And in answer, “No, the schedule was wrong-we’re 110-B now.”  Meanwhile, I was still alone outside the door to 110-C.  1:28 PM, and I was still by myself at 110-C, so I figured mine must be the class that had switched rooms.

I walked to where the rest of the students were headed.  And before going in the doors, stopped 3 girls that were saying, “But my schedule said it was 110-C. . .”  I said are you going to. . .  [I couldn’t remember the exact title of my course] Speech, umm Disorders?”  And they said, “What class?  mhm mhm [unintelligible] Disorders?”  “Yeah this is it–the schedule was wrong.”

Relieved I had avoided a blunder I squeezed behind a row of students in chairs to sit in the 2nd row middle.  I wanted everyone to know that though I was new and inexperienced, I am very serious about my studies.  A guy sat next to me and asked if I was new here.  And I said this was exactly my second class.  He said, “Oh welcome, we are all grad students.”  I didn’t find it too strange, because at Mizzou I took plenty of classes with grad students–they would just have higher standards, extra projects, and more expectations.

Then, the professor came in.  His power-point said Speech Disorders–was that my class?  I know it was something disorders. . .  The prof looked at me.  I figured, like the other instructor, he saw my face as new.  And he started saying if you got an e-mail don’t worry.  Since I didn’t receive ANY e-mails, I didn’t know if he sent me one or not.  Looking at me, he continued, “We had some confusion about who was supposed to be in the class.”  I started to think maybe I was in the wrong class.  I zipped my backpack in anticipation of a quick exit.    Blah blah so if you don’t belong here. . .  But there was not going to be an easy way out of here.  I was front and center, and there were at least 2 students on either side of me.  I was freaking out!  As soon, as the instructor paused, I grabbed my coat, scarf, notebook, and backpack and said, “Speaking of confusion and being in the wrong place–I think I am.”  While frantically scooting behind the other students.  The other kids snickered and he made some sort of joke. I was mortified.  I said, “I’m sorry” and tried to get to the door as fast as possible, and relishing the laughs, he said, “You’re welcome to stay!”  And I muttered something I don’t remember now and fell out into the hallway, cheeks red.

Could this day get any worse???