Despite My Best Efforts (Or Maybe Because Of Them), I Have Become The Absent-Minded Professor


I like to create a welcoming atmosphere on the first day of class.

The nervousness is palpable, especially for those who already looked at the syllabus. I can see the "Syllabus Shock" in their eyes--it's a byproduct of the "Impostor Syndrome."
"There is no WAY that I can read all of this!"  
"How many essays do I have to write???"  
"This will be the semester that crushes me."  
"This guy's policies are criminally insane."
I try to calm the waters right away, to let them know that we have fifteen weeks to work through this and that I am not nearly as tyrannical as my syllabus makes me seem.

So I always arrive early, trying to be the first in the classroom. I pull up my favorite Pandora station to have some music playing in the background. And I position myself at the door so that I can greet each person with a handshake, a smile, and some pleasantries.

This was my plan on Tuesday, as I confidently strode off to my 11:00 AM class. And everything was unfolding according to the plan... until it wasn't.

When I arrived, I noticed that some students were already seated. I also noticed that their names were not on my roster. Alas, they were not my students and--worse yet--this was not my class.

GAAARRRRRRR!!!! The dreaded "scheduling mix up" had happened to me! What kind of god allows this to evil to exist!?!?!?!

I scrambled to check on some other classrooms. Maybe the building name got mixed up. Nope. It's time to go to the Registrar.

It was here when, finally, I discovered the problem... My class was scheduled for 1:15 PM. Not 11:00 AM.



I try hard not to live up to the stereotype of the Absent-Minded Professor. I really do. But stuff like this doesn't help.

Additionally, this epic fail was one of many absent-minded moments since returning from my sabbatical. Heck, for a a few hours on Thursday morning I thought it was Friday. These are, I suppose, the occupational hazards of being a professor, which when compared to the other options in the world isn't all that bad.

At least I came to class on Tuesday with a good story. Nothing says "welcome to my class" like admitting that I can't read a schedule.

Comments

  1. Coulda been worse. You could've arrived at 1:15 for an 11:00 class... (My first day on the job was less Absent Minded Professor and more Inspector Clouseau: I tripped over the threshold and fell with enough force that I slid the ENTIRE length of the first row. I smashed my cell phone; scattered the syllabi and pop quizzes in a spectacular cloud of paper; and tore both my nylons and skirt. THIS girl knows how to make an entrance.)

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  2. "spectacular cloud of paper." Still has me chuckling.... While we're confessing first day mishaps, right before the FIRST class I ever taught, I was washing my hands and the faucet sprayed water all over the front of my pants. I had to spend the first part of the class trying to convince the 60ish people that I did not suffer from urinary incontinence. I'm not sure they believed me.

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