Waltzing Down Memory Lane
Isn’t in funny how old memories jump up at the strangest times. It could have been something that you haven’t thought of since it happened or it could be something that you think of every time you think of a certain subject, but ready or not, that memory’s coming, baby!
I don’t know about you, but for me this phenomenon is usually a negative thing… I have a tendency to cling like a barnacle to my failures. I mull and I poke and I prod, examining the situation from every conceivable angle over and over until I know exactly what I could have done instead. And then I think about it some more. Healthy, right… O_o
Much more mentally stable are the pleasant memories that make your day a little brighter. (By the way, I just lost “The Game“… Thinking about remembering things always does it. Sorry Aaron.)
My memory moment of the day, though is kind of a combination of these two kinds of random recollection. I was thinking about the lack of consequences for our students for being tardy. At most three tardies are supposed to be equal an absence but I don’t even know if they’re really going to enforce that in the long run. (Moving on.) So, there I was maundering around my room, waiting for my latecomers and I was taken back to the one time in high school that I was tardy. (I know, I know… I was a nerd. Still am!)
It was my freshman year, fifth period English, right after lunch. I think I was in the bathroom or something when the bell rang and I didn’t hear it. There I was taking my time, walking around with my horrible layered haircut all poufed out. (Cause I have curly hair and I used to brush it out, which gave me a poufy wavy mess. That plus bad haircut=Yikes!) I had Coach Hurst, or was it Hirst, that period and English was always my favorite/best subject (Any wonder I’m an English teacher?) and to make matters worse the guy I had a crush on was in that class! The Horror!
I stepped out of the bathroom and the halls are empty. Panic starts to grip me. I didn’t want to get detention or to have to explain that I was in the bathroom and didn’t hear the bell, because that could either be taken as a lie or sounds like I was having gastrointestinal problems both of which would have been mortifying to my fourteen year old self.
I rush to my locker, fumbling with my combination lock, my first one ever, grab my book and hurry down the hall to my class. I paused at the closed door, took a deep breath and opened it. Coach was just finishing taking roll and looked up at me, gave me a nod and a smile before turning back to the sheet in front of him. I found my seat and sank into, smiling my relief and my soon to be best friend that sat behind me. I breathed a silent thank you toward heaven and that was that.
As you can see, this situation quickly turned from a fail memory to a fond recollection. It still makes me smile that Coach was kind and didn’t give me detention. But if it hadn’t ended that way I would probably still be analyzing what I “did wrong”.