Last week was my first day of Russian lessons in an actual class of local students. It was a great first day despite it starting at 8 am. I was excited for the next day. I wasn’t sure if my teacher wanted me to meet her at her office so I thought I would use my prefrontal cortex and just go straight to the classroom we were in the day before. I opened the door and a collective gasp came from everyone in the room. “Was this the right class?” I thought. I didn’t recognize anyone but thought little of it since I had only been a part of the class one day. I asked if it was Russian lesson and they all answered, “Yes.” I took a seat in the front and held my head low until the teacher arrived. I looked at my watch: She was 10 minutes late.
I could feel everyone wondering who the new person was. The door opened and I sighed, relieved that the awkward tension in the room would soon be over now that the teacher had arrived. BUT it wasn’t my teacher. Before this lady could set her things on her desk I quickly and quietly exited the room without looking at anybody, embarrassed that I had walked into the “wrong” room. I went to the office, hoping that my teacher hadn’t already made her way to class. On my way there she came up behind me. Whew! I wasn’t late and I didn’t let on that I had visited the wrong class. She collected her things and we went on our way back to the floor I was just on. She turned right when the room I was just at was to the left. She opened a door and there before me was everyone from the day before. I guess I shouldn’t have assumed that my class would be in the same classroom as the day before. It’s only been that way for all the 18 years that I have been in school. Apparently here “me” is the only part of the word assume that gets made a fool of.