It’s spring semester 2017, you’ve put off taking the dreaded Speech 140 until now, and find yourself in a class where the majority of students are 2 years younger than you…yet you still can’t help but break into a nervous sweat during the ice breaker game. Well, there’s still a semester to go, so buckle up because this is what you have to look forward to:
AHA! So..yeah..that’s me…
You tell yourself to get a freakin grip and try to brush off how you awkwardly just gobbled out your name, major, year and completely lame fun fact you announced to the class. You’re wondering if anyone can tell you just sweat through the 100 layers of degree clinical strength deodorant you put on before class.
Why tho.
One week later and the class actually doesn’t seem too bad! That is until you’re assigned your first one minute introduction speech and you start frantically checking out flight deals to Djibouti.
VERY. Over. This.
You completely overthink the entire assignment but manage to come up with a few acceptable things to say, despite the impending sense of doom resting in your gut.
~Mental Breakdown #523095~
Your stress radiates through the entire apartment and your roomates try to calm you for the big day. You’re not entirely sure what species you’ve become but are fully aware that any minute you could snap.
Such sleep. Very restful. Much good.
You sleep 0 minutes the night before.
Shiver me timbers
Despite being completely worn out from your week of anxiety, the nerves kick in as you enter class with your index card that has chicken scratch on it. You tell yourself you will go first to get it over with, but it takes half the class before your heart returns to a safe pace and you can find your voice to volunteer. Your walk to the front of the classroom feels more like you are walking off the plank of the Black Pearl.
BOWCHICAWOW
You remember nothing after that but suddenly find yourself back in your seat and the next person it presenting. There’s a pretty good chance you just spoke in Parseltounge to the class, but nothing else matters at this point because YOU ARE DONE.
Life is brilliant
You exit the class, 50 years aged from when you entered it and can finally breath again…at least until the next speech is assigned.
Take it easy my fellow glossophobiacs. You are not in this alone.