I remember that the first day of school is always exciting and fresh, whether or not you are going to a new school or the same one as before, but I also remember being so terrified that I lay awake at night and just think of all the ways I could screw up my life forever.
On the first day of third grade I screwed up so bad that my stomach still goes up my throat when I think about it.
It was about four days after the open house and I was walking down the hallway of the new shiny big kid building. I was finally out of the dark, dirty “little kid” building and I felt like the biggest kid on the planet. (Although I was a measly four feet at the time) I tried to remember which room it was, the one with balloons, or the one with the cheerful butterflies.
Using my amazing third grade logic I walked into the favored room with butterflies around the door.
I walked in and was greeted by an unfamiliar woman who took my lunchbox to a cubby and had me sit at a desk. I looked around at the strange looking kids that weren’t at the open house and began to panic. I got some glares and some giggles and thought that they were laughing at how I was sitting or what I was wearing.
Finally a boy that I knew leaned over to me and whispered that this was not my class. I had chosen the room of a fourth grade class.
Traumatized I began to cry and I stood up and yelled to the teacher that I was in the incorrect class.
I have had more embarrassing school experiences on the first day ever since that day. Whether it was having a hole in my cereal bowl at lunch or going to the wrong class at the wrong time. I even showed up with a horrible asymmetrical haircut and full on spandex and was taken out by a teacher and told that I was dress inappropriately. I always dread the first day.
I am now enrolled in an arts school and I have spent the last weekend in orientations and dorm living. So far it has been fun. I enjoy my dancer roommate and hanging out with the other awkward adolescent art students but slowly the date has snuck up on me.
The first day of academic classes starts tomorrow at a bright and enjoyable 8:00 am.
I have gotten all of my supplies together and yet I still know that I will do something that will forever have me labeled “That one blue haired girl that did that thing that was hilarious.”
During the four-day orientation I have already shown up late for four panel discussions and staff introductions. I have missed out on two block parties and have yet to make friends with one single drama student, although I do not enjoy many of the obnoxious theater geeks that I have seen roaming the campus.
I am having fun at the school so far. The people are quite strange and unique but I fear my day of academics that is looming over me like a dark shadow. Even worse is the day that the arts start up and I have to deal with the terrifying art teachers that I heard numerous rumors about.
Something tells me that I am going to end up on the teachers' bad side but who knows, maybe my terrible luck will change and I will finally get a good first day.
On the first day of third grade I screwed up so bad that my stomach still goes up my throat when I think about it.
It was about four days after the open house and I was walking down the hallway of the new shiny big kid building. I was finally out of the dark, dirty “little kid” building and I felt like the biggest kid on the planet. (Although I was a measly four feet at the time) I tried to remember which room it was, the one with balloons, or the one with the cheerful butterflies.
Using my amazing third grade logic I walked into the favored room with butterflies around the door.
I walked in and was greeted by an unfamiliar woman who took my lunchbox to a cubby and had me sit at a desk. I looked around at the strange looking kids that weren’t at the open house and began to panic. I got some glares and some giggles and thought that they were laughing at how I was sitting or what I was wearing.
Finally a boy that I knew leaned over to me and whispered that this was not my class. I had chosen the room of a fourth grade class.
Traumatized I began to cry and I stood up and yelled to the teacher that I was in the incorrect class.
I have had more embarrassing school experiences on the first day ever since that day. Whether it was having a hole in my cereal bowl at lunch or going to the wrong class at the wrong time. I even showed up with a horrible asymmetrical haircut and full on spandex and was taken out by a teacher and told that I was dress inappropriately. I always dread the first day.
I am now enrolled in an arts school and I have spent the last weekend in orientations and dorm living. So far it has been fun. I enjoy my dancer roommate and hanging out with the other awkward adolescent art students but slowly the date has snuck up on me.
The first day of academic classes starts tomorrow at a bright and enjoyable 8:00 am.
I have gotten all of my supplies together and yet I still know that I will do something that will forever have me labeled “That one blue haired girl that did that thing that was hilarious.”
During the four-day orientation I have already shown up late for four panel discussions and staff introductions. I have missed out on two block parties and have yet to make friends with one single drama student, although I do not enjoy many of the obnoxious theater geeks that I have seen roaming the campus.
I am having fun at the school so far. The people are quite strange and unique but I fear my day of academics that is looming over me like a dark shadow. Even worse is the day that the arts start up and I have to deal with the terrifying art teachers that I heard numerous rumors about.
Something tells me that I am going to end up on the teachers' bad side but who knows, maybe my terrible luck will change and I will finally get a good first day.
I remember the spandex!! haha i thought you were so cool for wearing that!
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