Sometimes you just have to write…
It wasn’t entirely my fault. The scheduling office changed the schedule. And they didn’t contact me to let me know they’d changed the schedule.
But it was mostly my fault. Apparently, as I was told after I missed the lesson, they are allowed to change the schedule up to and including the Friday before the new term begins. I did check my schedule on-line more than once, but the last time was last week. I should have checked the schedule before my first lesson this week.
I felt so stupid! After my initial outburst – “Oh, my God! Oh, no!” – when I went on-line at about two o’clock to check on what room the lesson would be in and realized I’d missed it, my colleagues tried to console me: “It could happen to anyone.” and “I never check in the first week of the term either.” and “They should have called you.” All of that is true. But I still felt dumb. And embarrassed that I’d done something so unprofessional.
I believe the current internet word for this is “facepalm.” This is the perfect word; it’s exactly what I did. Or rather, I suppose what I did was a double facepalm. Both my hands went to my face when I read that schedule. Why do we do that? What does putting your hands to your face when you’re shocked or surprised accomplish, exactly? Is it to cover my face so no one can see my shame? Pretty useless when you realize that you can’t hide behind your hands forever.
So I’m embarrassed. I sent an e-mail to the class to apologize for not showing up, but next week I’ll have to face them, knowing that they already have a negative first impression of me: the teacher who was so disorganized that she missed her own first lesson. I’ll have to make it one stunning lesson: replace the negative with a positive. “She’s a scatterbrain, but what a brilliant teacher!” Well, I’ll do my best. And probably check the schedule several times a day between now and then, just in case.