It seems as though a tradition has started for me to do something unknowingly stupid each and every academic year. It all began in high school, where I would miss the bus every first day of classes. It wasn’t on purpose and still to this day, I have no idea why I did. But it happened every year.

Now fast forward to college. It’s my senior year at Stevenson and by then you would think I knew how to navigate around the campus and find my classes easily. Nope. I walk into a Business Writing class thinking that was the class I was supposed to be in. I guess the large letters on the white board that clearly read “BUSINESS WRITING” wasn’t enough to deter me away because I stayed there for almost 15 minutes. I participated in the class discussion and even added my name to the class roster when the teacher did not call me. It was a hilarious moment now that I think about it.

My life has always been filled with hysterical jokes that revolve around my day to day activities. People think it’s funny and I just think it’s me being myself. Shrugs.

Well it happened AGAIN! Yes, I sat in the wrong classroom today. It was by mistake of course! I saw students from my class waiting in the main lobby so I decided to wait there too and discuss the homework assignment with them. As the previous classes were ending and the classrooms were being cleared, I walked into the closest room near the main lobby. I wasn’t paying attention to what number was on the door but I knew one of the girls walking into the room and assumed she too was in my class. Turns out, she wasn’t.

Here’s what happened: I sat next to her perplexed as to why the tables were set up in an oval shape as opposed to the rows from the first day of class. I asked “Was the tables like this last class?” She replies “No, I don’t think so,” with a bewildered look. I don’t know if she was trying to figure out why I was asking that sort of question or if she just could not remember the room setup from the previous class. Either way, that should’ve been an indicator that something was wrong.

Then I proceeded to ask her about what was discussed last class since I was at the DNC. She began to show me her notes when suddenly a black woman walks in and heads to the podium. This is the same woman I was standing next to in the main lobby area. I asked the girl next to me if that was our professor and she said yes. Now you can imagine the confusion that immediately attacked my brain as I knew for a fact that my professor was a white male.

The fact that the woman was getting things faxed by the receptionist however, should have been a second indicator that something was not right. I turned to the girl and asked “what class is this?” “Corporate communications,” she replied.

I hung my head low and knew it happened again. I sat in the wrong class. I quickly gathered my things and told her that I was in the wrong room.

I find incidents like these super funny! But why does it always have to happen to me?