One of those mornings

Talk about a rude awakening.

My eyes popped open this morning and I almost simultaneously shot straight up in bed as my heart dropped to my stomach in the despair of realizing that I was not waking up to an alarm and feeling in my bones that it was way, way later than it should be.

A frantic check of my phone – 8:28 a.m.!!! [reminder: my start time is 8:20] – led to even more frantic dashing around my apartment, grabbing clothing items, slapping on powder and mascara, sticking a toothbrush in my mouth, packing my bag, slathering on deodorant and perfume and wishing I had dry shampoo because there was no way I could take a shower. (This headless chicken method of getting ready ended up being far less effective than if I had calmly gathered what I needed.) All the while, I was repeatedly trying to call any of my co-teachers to let them know why I was late and that I’d be there ASAP, but I couldn’t reach any of them because they’re all homeroom teachers and had to be in their classrooms at that time.

10 minutes after my eyes had opened, I was outside my apartment in the blazing heat, desperately looking for a taxi and noticing (in the way one notices completely trivial things in a moment of crisis) how differently the sun illuminates the city at 8:30 a.m. than at 7:30 a.m., the time I usually walk to school.

I found a taxi a couple minutes later and we sped to my main school (thankfully it’s only like an 8 minute drive from my house) and I definitely overpaid the driver but I Did. Not. Care.

Then I had to make the walk of shame past some 2nd graders who were preparing for 1st period P.E. class outside (thankfully they didn’t seem to notice the fact that I had just clambered out of a taxi 1 minute before their first class), dashed up the 4 flights of stairs and into my office, shamefacedly murmured a greeting to my coworkers, whipped my laptop and class materials out of my bag just as the bell rang, ran back downstairs to Classroom 304, and smoothly started class like it was just a normal day.

Lucky for me, no one seems to care that I was late at all. One of my co-teachers said they’d been worried about me, but that was it. Every co-teacher I talked to about it just said “Oh, it’s okay!” or “Oh, you must be tired!” I’m sure if I made a habit of it, that would be different. But hey, I didn’t miss even one minute of my first class, so we’re all good.

But guess who’s going to be setting five different obnoxiously loud alarms for tomorrow morning?

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