Anxiety ran through my veins late at night; I knew my life was either about to end or begin anew. All I knew was that tomorrow was the first day of high school, and any minuscule mistake could alter my high school experience forever.
7:00 am, and my alarm was silent. Thirty minutes later, my mom walked into my room, rushing me to put on decent clothes for the first day. Suddenly struck awake, I stood quick on my feet only to clash into the floor from the rush of blood into my head. Clothes were thrown everywhere, as if a tornado of Levis and t-shirts had struck my room. I ran into walls blindly, still unable to see from both the luminous lights and the blood rush, and when I drunkenly found the kitchen, I scarfed down my breakfast, not even tasting the delectable pancakes my mother had made that morning so that I could start the year off right. Everyone was waiting for me in the car, and I knew one thing was for sure, I was going to be late. This may sound like a dramatic fourteen year-old just anxious for her first day of high school, but one little detail had been left out, at the time I lived in American Canyon, and the traffic into Napa from my house was never-ending.
Sitting in that cramped Toyota only drove my crazy, and watching other people in the cars next to us banging their heads into the dashboards out of frustration, didn't exactly calm my nerves, just gave me ideas. After a long thirty minute drive to Silverado Middle School to drop off my sister, I was finally on my way to a brand new school. The car didn't even slow to a stop when I opened the door and jumped out.
By the time I had met up at the spot where my student-leader mentors were supposed to meet my group, only emptiness welcomed me. I had missed them, and they had the schedule I needed for the rest of the school year. This was unknown territory, so I went to the only place I knew could help me, and it was labeled "Student Services." I walked up to the mysterious woman behind a desk too big for her size, and she redirected me to the Lecture Hall. I didn't want to cause more trouble so I nodded and walked out, only to then contemplate with myself which one of the buildings was the Lecture Hall. A woman was on the stage found in the quad, accepting students inside, so I gave it a shot and turns out I was in the right place.
One could only hope that my troubles would stop there, but unfortunately for me, they had only begun. 8:50 am and I was still sitting in the Lecture Hall, waiting for my schedule. I had finally received my schedule by the time first period was over, and I was off to my second. It is no surprise that I knew no one in Ms. Drew's H. Algebra 2 class. I saw a familiar face from Silverado Middle School and asked if I could sit with her. Her name is Noemi, and she turned out to be one of my very good friends throughout high school. Third period was a blur, but the most memorable class of the day was fourth. This is the part of the day that I got lost.
Frantically searching for this unknown classroom, I began asking around and only got vague pointing in very general directions. I was stuck in the parking lot behind the school (what would later become the new jock lot), and was stared at by a teacher standing outside of his classroom. I had passed by this room several times in my attempt to find my class, so I worked up the nerve to ask him if that happened to be Biology, and if he was Mr. Fisher. As it turns out, my Biology class was the only trailer hidden, for no other purpose than to cause me misery, behind the school.
Mr. Fisher's hidden classroom was the end of my troubles, after that the rest of the day passed by fairly quickly and for the most part, normally. This was one of the most frustrating days of my life, and certainly the first day of senior year was no walk in the park, but that is a different story for another blog post. This day will eternally be known as "That Dreaded Day."
Frantically searching for this unknown classroom, I began asking around and only got vague pointing in very general directions. I was stuck in the parking lot behind the school (what would later become the new jock lot), and was stared at by a teacher standing outside of his classroom. I had passed by this room several times in my attempt to find my class, so I worked up the nerve to ask him if that happened to be Biology, and if he was Mr. Fisher. As it turns out, my Biology class was the only trailer hidden, for no other purpose than to cause me misery, behind the school.
Mr. Fisher's hidden classroom was the end of my troubles, after that the rest of the day passed by fairly quickly and for the most part, normally. This was one of the most frustrating days of my life, and certainly the first day of senior year was no walk in the park, but that is a different story for another blog post. This day will eternally be known as "That Dreaded Day."
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