2 Mundane Stuffs

The first day of school.

The first period of the day.

The part I dreaded the most.

At 7.15 am, our class homeroom teacher arrived. She introduced a bit about herself.

Her name is Mdm. Lydia and she will teach Biology for classes 1C-1E. She looks like a kind teacher. The only problem is her voice. It is so monotonous that it can whizz you to dreamland even while your eyes were opened.

She starts to give the printout of the class schedule to us. Monday till Friday, we have 8 periods, 45 minutes each. Two breaks in between, 15 minutes each. On Saturday, we have a shorter schedule with only 5 periods with one break.

I look at my schedule..... (Whose idea is this? Really?)

Who put Biology, Physics, and Maths on the same day with History? Do the teachers forget that students are human with emotion and rights? And why does our class have the misfortune to get PE in the afternoon?

I can see the look of horror in some of my classmates' face. Some sigh. And some slam that horrendous sheet to the table; I bet imagining that it is whoever the sadist planning this schedule.

Our teacher smiles as she looked at us fondly. I think I knew one of the sadistic culprits. She takes out another sheet listing the names of the students in the class.

(I wish I can hide in the restroom. Or dig a hole. Or fast forward to adulthood. As long as I don't need to do what is coming next.)

When the teacher called our names, we need to stand and introduce ourselves: our name and our hobby. (Heart palpitation...)

My name gets nearer and in a moment it's my turn. What do I expect, my name starts with C.

Mdm. Lydia, like most of the people, slightly mispronounced my name.

In that moment when I start to stand up, a thought flashing through my mind. (As much as I love my parents, I could never understand what caused their brain to short circuit and choose this name. It is a bane of my childhood. It is always mispronunced and misspelled. And they have the audacity to tell me that at least it's unique. )

I take a deep breath to calm my nerves and open my mouth.

(don't break out... don't break out...)

"MY...uhuk..ahem... nameis Cattleya" (Ka- tlei- ya; with an emphasis of the "t" before the "lei". Yes, my father is an orchid fan. A bit of silver lining, at least my name is not Dendrobium)

"Reading." (let's not elaborate too much here)

I immediately sit down. How tiring...

A rush of relief warms my body. I manage to pass through the introduction safely.

It is weird but the urge to vomit slowly dissipates. I begin to listen to my classmates' introduction.

The introduction of all 35 students in the class finishes. I tried to memorize some of their names, but gave up after 'M'.

(Ah, well, I will slowly remember them. )

Lastly (yes, these mundane stuffs will soon end), the seating arrangement. There are 6 rows and 6 columns of seats. They are numbered in ascending order from front to back; from left to right. For example: my current seat is labeled 21.

A box is passed around. inside, there are 36 pieces of paper with numbers written on them.

I close my eyes as I put my hand inside.

I hope I can use my tactile sense to check the number in the paper. (Hmmmm, is this 2 or 7? 8 or 9?)

The tap on my shoulder gives me a surprise.. It seems I hold up the box. I grab a random paper and just hope for the best.

"Heh...," a grin escapes me. The number I got is not too bad. 33. The third seat at the most right. Near the window overlooking the garden.

I hold my books and pencil case in one hand and sling my bag over my shoulder. I walk to seat 33, but the seat is occupied by a boy. He doesn't seem to focus on the class at all. His face tilts toward the window.

"Errrrr, this is my seat. I think yours is somewhere else." ( A good seat needs to be fought for)

The boy turns his face and stares at me.

An indescribable thought comes into my mind. I keep on searching for the right word.

(How odd.....)