Shit shit shit...
A less than auspicious start to my second term lecturing Sports Journalism. Christ this isn't good. My course administrator is in my class.
My course. Administrator. Is in my class.
Now this won't mean much to most, if any, of you, but for me it's ever so mildly catastrophic. She told me beforehand that she'd be 'taking my class this term,' but I thought this was admin-speak for 'I'll be overseeing things and making sure you have the necessary assistance.'
I didn't take it to mean 'I've always had an interest in sport so I thought I'd use my connections to wangle myself some of your unique brand of tutelage. Sir.'
Cue tonight's class, and the horrific realisation that I've got me a mole. If I fuck up she'll trot the eleven steps to the head of faculty's office and do me in, and my nascent career in lecturing will be lopped off at the head.
I will NOT be able to bluff my way through this one. Fuck.