I am the king of embarrassing moments. Lord of putting my foot in my mouth. Emperor of oopsies. I've learned I need to ride out whatever I've done and let it take me where it will, though it doesn't mean I'm not still haunted.
Last night, for example, I was kept up by going into the wrong class earlier that day; don't worry, it was actually far worse than it sounds. I was in Norton Hall, passing through on my way to the cafeteria for a bowl of mashed potatoes with gravy, when I glanced through the window of my physics classroom. My professor was in there. Students were in there. Class had started fifteen minutes ago! I thought I had all the time in the world; I mean, didn't I always go or mashed potatoes on Thursdays? I had a routine, and what happened to it that I missed the start of class? In a panic, I threw open the door and slid into a seat on the end as some kid was in my seat. Hmm. Some kid I didn't recognize.
"Matt?" said Professor Anderson. "Are you in this class? Aren't you in the next class?" He frowned, and I knew what had happened. Professor Anderson held two classes back to back, and I had the second. I didn't know anybody in here. My class didn't start for another hour. "Ah, well, I may be mixing up my rosters. Midterm craziness. Where were we?"
I didn't move. I didn't look at anyone, though I knew they were staring at me. I felt my face burning up and I could barely breathe. Ride it out, man. I just had to let what I'd done take me where it would, which was here, taking notes, surrounded by strangers. And I missed my afternoon mashed potatoes.
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