20th Grade

Today was my first day of school. I figured out I’m in 20th grade.

One year of kindergarten.
Five years of elementary school.
Three years of junior high.
Four years of high school.
Four years of college.
Three years (and counting) of graduate school.

That’s a lot of first days. A couple didn’t go as planned.

On my first day of sixth grade, I knocked out my front tooth on my locker and had to have emergency dental surgery. Because my dentist is a rockstar, I was back at school in time for lunch. Not that I could eat it!

My first day of my junior year of college, I was in such a rush that I wore two different shoes to class. I didn’t notice it until I was sitting in my first class, and happened to glance down at my feet. In horror, I realized that not only were my shoes different, but they didn’t even LOOK similar. One brown high-heeled boot, one black low-heeled boot.

Another first day in college, I sat through almost an entire class before realizing that I wasn’t supposed to be there. I had come an hour early.

And then there’s my recurring nightmare where I show up to my first day of school wearing only my birthday suit.

Tonight was less eventful. No major injuries, no major embarrassments. And I was fully clothed.

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