the first class

Alone I sat in the room for about half an hour that Tuesday morning; anxiety increasing as the minutes ticked by. Every once in a while, I’d look outside the room to check if the students were just lingering in the hallway. There were no sophomore-looking students in sight. Checked my teaching load for the nth time. I was where I was supposed to be when I’m supposed to be.

Gave up on waiting and checked with the lecturer if students attended the first lecture session. There was a good turnout for the lecture session, I found. Perhaps the students were just dealing with this semester’s way-more-challenging-than-usual registration procedure.

For some reason, I did not look at the class schedule on top of the class list. I never crossed this mind to see if my teaching load schedule is consistent with the class list details. My bad. It seemed that the recitation session I so prepared for last Tuesday according to my teaching load is actually scheduled today (Thursday). I ended up missing what I thought would have been my first class for the semester.

Well, it is the first class I  missed this semester – not that I plan on missing more sessions. It’s not a good feeling, missing the class. I just have to deal with it. It made me wonder in what state I have been operating this week. Not a very focused one, obviously.

Given such observation, I reviewed my activities earlier this week and found some several things I need to redo. The schedule I posted was a mess and I’m reminded of a several deliverables for the week.

I can always blame next week’s trip for this week’s anxiety and lack of focus. I spent the entire week thinking of all the possible ways I could mess up next week’s data gathering and how I can address all possible mess ups.

It’s draining. It keeps me from sleep. I have no focus in whatever I’m doing. I’d find myself staring at something realizing I have lost the past 30 minutes thinks about what I’d do if I miss my flight, how I’d deal with my finances to buy another ticket, who I’d contact for emergencies, and that’s another 30 minutes lost.

The things that keep me from thoughts of next week are my mother’s calls, meals with the eldest sister, registration for this semester, and project meetings. I just want next week to be over. But before that, I have tasks to deliver and arrangements to make up up for my absence next week.

Then I’m back to being lost in what could possibly go wrong next week.

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