I slept pretty well last night, though I awoke early. I didn’t check the time, but it was quite dark — though I know dawn arrives later here. I finally fell asleep again, and next thing I knew, I was hearing my alarm. Thankfully, I set like 6 alarms because I was worried about the time change. Good thing because I needed 2 or 3 of those alarms. Lol. I washed and dressed.

I headed out later than I’d planned. There were so many people out and about on this beautiful morning. We were all walking in the same direction, so I kinda’ started following them and confidently turned off my Siri map directions. Alas, I was on the wrong street. I turned around, and felt like a salmon swimming upstream now. Lots of kids with backpacks. Young adults heading to college. I found the Boulevard Raspail, and Alliance Française, and hurried into the building.

I was greeted by the nicest people! They told me my class was on the 3rd floor. Well, that’s like 6 floors here! OK who needs Peloton. A 5-mile walk yesterday, now endless stairs. I climbed them like a pro, though the mask sure makes one breathe harder.

There was a class straight ahead with the door open. I went in. I asked Class A2, and was told yes. I sat down, a little flustered. I was almost last to arrive. I found a seat and had to present myself, which I did. Then, the professeur saw my textbook and declared it was the wrong one. OMG. Okay. I was the only person in the class with my book. Ok. There were no other Americans in the room. And I was clearly the oldest, but that didn’t bother me. My neighbor offered to share her book for the lesson. I was grateful. She was so kind. (Honestly everyone is so kind here. It’s crazy nice everywhere I go!)

An hour into the class, and lessons, and I was gauging where I ranked in the class. I felt a little nervous because while I could understand everything being said, it was heavy. I was immediately thinking, OK, I guess I belong in A1. Yet, as class went on, I realized I understood the teacher, and told myself not to chicken out – stick with it. I couldn’t believe how well my classmates conversed and they all had lovely accents and speed. I knew I had my work cut out for me, but ok. I read everything and followed along. The class was full, so I didn’t participate too much. I wasn’t ignored and didn’t feel unseen.

My classmate and I laughed a bit here and there during the lesson — she read a passage and whispered to me that she doesn’t read as fast as others in the class. Moi aussi, I said. We shared our notes. Then, it was time for a break! She closed the textbook — and on the cover I saw B2.

OMG, I said, this is B2? Yes. I laughed out loud. Then, I showed her MY (wrong book) which is A2. I was in the wrong class.