I walked into the wrong class for the first time this morning since beginning my college education and it was by far the most peculiar experience I’ve gone through. I think it was more or less a silent goal of mine to never have to go through something like this and to never put myself in the position to be that student, and I may have lied to myself once or twice while giving myself the impression that I’m not really the kind of person this would happen to. My subconscious wanted to believe I could have a strong grasp on my schedule to know where I’m supposed to be at the time I’m supposed to be there. And that I could hold this up through everyday of the next four years. Needless to say, I lasted one week into my second semester.
Other than the fact that I could have slept an extra hour this morning, I felt prepared to wait an hour or so for my next class. But all my optimism about this situation flew out the window when I realized all I brought with me to survive this day on campus were textbooks. It takes a special human being to be able to entertain themselves with a humanities textbook. Ultimately, it was a pair of earphones buried in the bottom of my backpack that helped me fight death by boredom.
I guess this is something that ultimately every college student must go through at least once. But the embarrassment one has once it actually happens is not something you can prepare yourself for.