The Long day at school (Revised)

Yesterday was my first full day back at school. For reasons that I won't go into here, my schedule is very strange and spread out. My first class starts at 10:00am and is a math class (gag). My next class of the day is at 6:00pm, and is a film production class (yeah). So I have a seven hour break between classes on Monday and Wednesday.

So yesterday, I awoke a little later than I had planned, and decided to drive in to school instead of taking the train as usual. The train, being a fickle friend, can be agonizingly slow. To my dismay, I-15 was the recipient of three car wrecks that morning and had been reduced to a parking lot.

Finally I get into down town SLC and decide to park on campus. I don't have a parking permit, but I new I would be late if didn't. Besides, my first class is only an hour long, and maybe I will be back before the meter maid comes by. Wrong, there was a nice fat warning on my windshield when I got back. That warning was probably the best part of the day, to speak the truth.

So with 10 minuets to spare, I start my long hike across campus. However, I realize that I don't know where the JFB is. It sounds familiar, so I head in the direction I think it is. I know it is a math class, but I have no idea where that particular building is. After climbing what must be an Everestian height, I realize that I am not even close. I start to sweat and get a little bit angry. The bag hanging from my shoulder begins to take on weight by the second, and my shoulder aches with the pain. I realize my only option is to find a computer, and look at a map. Nearest computer? The Union building. Back down Everest and across the Sahara to the Union Building.

I quickly check the school map, after trying to log in a couple of times. I'm sure the school computers thought it a great joke watching me fumble over the keys trying spell out my password correctly. I retaliated by leaving sweaty finger marks all over the keyboard. Locating the JFB, I set out for my class. Inside the JFB, I am dismayed to find that I cannot find the right room number. It seems that I must be blind, maybe by the sweat, because I walked by it several times. Panic sets in and I must have shown it on my face, because a nice old gentleman asked me what I was looking for. He pointed me the way, and I huffed out a brief thanks, then stumbled off toward it.

By the time I walk into class I am fifteen minutes late and the teacher is well into his lecture in what must have been a foreign language (It is a math class after all). I climb over several people to find a seat, they are not pleased to be interrupted, probably the smell, and once settled I am able to investigate what has been a growing pain on my heal. I find a large bloody blister oozing into my sock. I stifle a gasp, and then calming myself, take out my books and begin taking what I am sure will be worthless notes in a class I'm sure I won't comprehend.

What a perfect start of the new semester.