Bad teacher

If I had any kind of decency I’d be panicked by now. In less than ten hours I’m going to teach a class at university. I should have a racing heart, sweaty palms and an outfit picked out. Oh, and maybe even a proper lesson planed. Instead I have no idea where my classroom is or how I’ll get to the university, I don’t know how the facilities are (do I have a whiteboard? or something I can connect my computer to? do I even have pen and paper?), I don’t know how much experience my students have in this particular subject and I most certainly don’t know what I’ll wear tomorrow.

Obviously the location and transportation is highly relevant – but believe it or not, so is the outfit. I can’t walk in there feeling like anything less than a kickass teacher and a big part of that, other than being prepared (and I’m so getting to that after I write this post…!) is presenting a good image. And how do you get the image and feel of a kickass teacher? Well, I don’t really know exactly, but I do know that (like in so many important events in ones life) it involves heals.

After spending no less than a week wandering the cobblestoned streets of Stockholm and then just getting an evening off before trotting off for a day in Aarhus with more cobblestoned streets and a stiletto requiring party with dancing until 3.30 in the morning – my feet and I are not on speaking terms.

Well, I guess I should try to find out how to get to my class tomorrow and try not to worry about how I’ll stand for eight hours straight in heals – and then, if I get a little time over, I guess I should try figuring out what to say to the students that expect to learn something from me… Christ, what a joke – I’ll probably give Cameron Dias a good competition for the Bad Teacher nomination of the year…