Oh my gosh, you guys. Have I got a story for you.
So. This morning I’m in my car and my phone rings. It’s the history department office. Um. Okay. That’s not good. I mean, I’ve been employed all of eleven days and haven’t even done anything yet and they’re already calling? Great.
I answered, and turns out they weren’t firing me. (Whew.) Apparently a few of the students in my first section didn’t check their e-mail and showed up for class despite the fact that it was explicitly cancelled several days ago. And then they went to the office to complain.
(Sidenote: My reaction to that was a.) Bravo, eager beaver who showed up on a Friday morning so eager to learn that he complained when I wasn’t there to help facilitate and b.) oh, hell. I’m going to have to look out for you, aren’t I?)
Whatever. Not my fault. My supervisor had told me not to put a sign on the door, the e-mail should cover it. But I was heading in to the office anyway to do some copying,* so I decided to be an awesome go-getter TA and make a sign anyway and put it up outside the room.
Yep. Awesome plan. I finished my copying and headed downstairs with my sign. Except…I accidentally timed it to exactly hit the beginning of my next section. I peaked around the door a little bit. And…the room was full of people. Waiting for me.
So I taped the sign on the wall really quick and ran up the stairs as fast as I could.
I mean, I know none of them saw me. And the class was officially cancelled. And I was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt that I may have spilled coffee on because Lake Drive is hardly a smooth ride anymore, thanks a lot Whitefish Bay. And no way in hell was I even going in the room like that.
But…my first act as a TA was to run away from my students in fear.
Yep. Picked the correct career path.
*Who wants a copy of my syllabus? It’s collated. I love it. You’ll love it. I promise.