First day of class.

I found the first classroom, went inside, and set it all up.

As the students are entering, I notice that their textbook doesn’t look like mine. Oh, they’re both green, but mine is pale green and theirs is dark green.

I didn’t panic.

I had about fifteen minutes till the class began so I calmly walked out the door, down the hall, and into the elevator. I rode down to the first floor, and calmly walked down another hall to the chairman’s office. I asked her about the book and she went pale. She was so incredibly sorry, she forgot to tell me that the textbook had changed. She gave me a book from her shelf and apologized again.

I didn’t panic.

People make mistakes. People forget things. People are busy. It’s okay, I understand. I’m not mad. That’s not sarcasm, either; I’m really not mad. I really do understand. She’s a lovely person and a good chairman. She just forgot.

But. . . .

That syllabus I prepared? Worthless.

I guess I can also mention that the faculty page of the college’s website was down today, so I couldn’t download my class rosters, but I won’t.

I still didn’t panic.

So I walk back down the hall, get back into the elevator, ride up to the top floor, walk down the first hall, and re-enter the classroom, which by now has filled with students.

Nameless, anonymous students, with dark green textbooks just like the new one I haven’t had a chance to even open, yet.

I don’t know who they are, and I’ve never seen the book before.

I didn’t panic then, either.

We managed. And now I have to make a new syllabus.

And somehow find out their names.

Oh, please, please, faculty website, recognize my ‘open sesame’ and give forth your rosters of students’ names that I might quickly learn them and apply them to the eager faces that stared at me so trustingly today, knowing not that for three hours this morning, I was the most ignorant of them all.

I can only hope they didn’t notice.

I’m finally home. Please, may I panic now?