Late to class

It's Tuesday morning and I'm waiting in a long line of cars and I have just realized that it is not going to be possible to get to class on time. 10 more minutes in traffic. 10 to catch the shuttle. Five to walk. Damn, I'm going to be late. Thankfully this is not the class I'm teaching, but still. I finally negotiate through traffic and find a parking space. Then I catch the shuttle. The shuttle route has changed--apparently it makes about a million more stops than I remembered, or at least that's what it feels like. And my stop is now about half a block further away from the old stop. Great. I tried to dress up in nice clothes for the first day but I can feel my button-down shirt getting soaked as I walk to class as fast as I can in my uncomfortable boots. Foot traffic is practically nonexistent so I know for sure that I am officially late. I take the elevator to the second floor of the building. Which room is it? Of course I pick the wrong one but I realize it's the wrong one and go back to the one I just passed by. I'm sweaty and exasperated as I make a grand entrance and take a seat in the back of the class. Late to my first day of this class, way to make a good impression.