Memoirs of a Clumsy Girl: Muddle Puddle Mayhem

Drip. Drip. Splat. The sounds echo in the silence of the giant gymnasium turned exam room. Just ignore it and keep writing, keep the focus on the questions. Drip. Drip. Splat. An annoyed sigh floats across the room from the professors at the front. Drip. Drip. Splat. A snicker from the back of the room had me writing faster. How did I manage to find myself in this place?

It was a beautiful Spring day. My room was filled with sunlight as I placed the last curl in my hair. It was the last day of finals and I had made plans to meet up with my friends to celebrate. Other finals I had shown up in a cozy wardrobe of a tired student. Hair in messy ponytail, my lucky t-shirt and sweatpants. The celebration had been my motivation to stop the pre-final studying earlier and add some curls to my hair and dress for the occasion. Well, that and maybe the fact that the majority of my classmates just so happened to be on the University football team. What girl didn’t want to make a good impression with such fine young athletes?

One final check in the mirror. Hair curled? Check. Tight jeans and white tank top? Check. Fun pink flip flops to tie the look together? Check. Time to get this final written and then get to celebrating.

The walk across campus was quiet. Many of my fellow students in studious and contemplative mindsets as they sat and studied or made their way around campus to write their own tests. A few dressed as I was, clearly prepared for post exam festivities. The walk from my off-campus apartment to the gymnasium was spent trying to remember all the things that had been covered in the semester, and all the things I had spent hours studying. I was reciting things in my head, right up until the moment I came up to the Greens. The Greens was a place where we had to exit one building, walk across the greens to access the buildings on the other side. Due to construction and the design of the campus, there was only one way into the building across the way. Through the Greens and a massive mud puddle. As the snow had melted, the depth and parameter of the puddle had grown. Someone had laid boards down as a makeshift bridge that we all used to carefully cross. Every time I needed to cross, I would pause and take a deep breath to make sure I was paying attention. Balance and being graceful are not attributes I possess so I always try to err on the side of caution when it comes to moments like this.

Since the way was clear, I began my way across. When I was about halfway across, I heard my name being called. A shout of my name. That is all it took to seal my fate. I turned, raising my hand in greeting and sending back a thank you to the wish of luck on the test. The realization of my error hits me, the board wobbles, my flip flops slide and I know what’s coming. The mad flailing of my arms, and the terrified squeak did nothing to slow my fall. My fall which lands me face first into the giant puddle of mud and water.

I took a moment to regroup. Was I really sitting in a puddle, at the University, on my way to my final exam? I stood, brushed as much mud as I could off of my face, knowing I had a choice to make. Did I stay or did I go home? With a resigned sigh, I know what I have to do. My only option is to go write my final. As I am. Soaked, covered in mud with portions of my tank top nearly see through. It was starting in minutes, and there was no way to have it deferred and I was not going to fail a class just because of this. I stood, fished my flip flop out of the puddle and made my way to the exam.

So there I sat. Drip. Drip. Splat. Water dripped from my once beautifully curled hair mixing with the drips from my sodden jeans. Drip. Drip. Splat. A drop lands on the page, and I have to brush it out of the way to finish writing my answer. Drip. Drip. Splat. My once bright and cheerful flip flops soaking in the muddy water. This test needed to be over. The air conditioning had me shivering and I just did not want to add the sounds of chattering teeth to the drips and snickers that were already echoing.

Writing the last words, and barely a read through and I’m done. I couldn’t remember writing a test so hurriedly, or even what the questions asked. All I knew was that the test needed to be handed in and I wanted to be at home. The celebration was a thought of the past now. Explaining this to my friends was going to be fun. They knew I’d already had a couple of other embarrassing moments in this class, so ending in such a way was just the cherry on top.

Squish, squish, squish. My flip flops providing the soundtrack of my journey through the desks to the front of the room. With a blush of pure humiliation on my face, I stood in front of my professor and held out my exam. A few little drops of muddy water marked the front. As he accepted it from me, as I turned to make my walk of shame out of the room, I could hear his quiet voice say, “You never failed to amuse me all semester, trust you to come in like this.”

I passed the class. And never took another in that faculty again.