Photo Minor Crisis Averted

If there's one thing you should know about me, it's that I'm pretty disorganized, and I never have what I need when it's due. This causes some inconveniences, conflicts and occasionally a minor crisis. And as I walked into my photo minor class and heard the teacher announce our projects were due, I knew this would be one of those crises. Rule number one in dealing with times when you don't have what you need: there's nothing you can do at this point. It's not that I like not having things, but once you already don't have it, there's no sense worrying more. So I approach the teacher and calmly explain the situation. Just my luck, he's the kind of teacher who's going to fail me unless I have the project that day. In any other class, that would have been that, and I would have failed the project. But no, this was not any other class, this was photo. This was not any other teacher, it was my crazy old photo teacher who always smelled like smoke. Well, he told me, you'll just have to go run home and get them.  

Of course, it's not so easy as, walk out of school, grab project, hand it in. Because we can't exactly trust high schoolers to walk home without getting themselves killed. But, what can I do? I went down to the house office (each grade has a different 'house') and spoke with the secretary. No, no, we can't let you do that, Sachi. You're fourteen. Clearly you need to be at least sixteen to be trusted in a city this dangerous (that was sarcasm, for those of you who don't know my city is one of the safest in the country.) But we'll ask the housemaster, just to see what she says.

The housemaster is talking to another adult. I wait, awkwardly trying not to look like I'm eavesdropping. The man she is talking to looks at me strangely and I edge back to the doorway. When they're done, the house secretary comes out looking around for me, finally spotting me, halfway out the door. She beckons me, and I follow her into the housemaster's office, as she explains the problem.  The housemaster is a skinny young-ish woman with blonde hair who tries to bond with students through her enthusiasm for cafeteria food. Picking up a slice of orange she tells me, "I got this from the cafeteria. It's delicious." I nod along, never sure what to say (we've had a few other awkward conversations concerning cafeteria food, but that's a story for another post). We talk and she tells me she'll never let me do it again, but if I call my mom and get verbal permission, I can go get my project.  

That's how I found myself, five minutes later, hurrying home to grab my photo project.   I was able to get it in on time, and even received an A on the project.  I had a grand time, over all, but apparently other people thought it was pretty stressing. Upon my return, my photo teacher, who, if you'll remember, is an old smoke smelling man, asked me if he could give me a hug. A few kids turned around to look at me. Awkward. What do you do? Sure, I said, as he put an arm around me and gave me a quick hug.  Then I quickly scurried out and headed to work. Whew.  Minor crisis averted.

Sachi