It’s late. You lie awake, staring at the ceiling, your mind swirling like a storm. The clock ticks loudly. Shadows creep across your room, stretching long and dark like the chaos waiting tomorrow.

You imagine walking into your classroom. But it’s not the perfect place you hoped for.

The air smells stale—like forgotten papers and old chalk dust. The bulletin board borders droop, half-torn. Bins overflow with papers you forgot to grade. The staff lounge? Empty, silent. No coffee. Just a cold, blinking machine mocking your tired eyes.

You fumble for your badge—nowhere to be found. The Wi-Fi signal flickers like a bad omen.

Students pour in, but they’re noisy, backpacks half-zipped, faces blurred with exhaustion or rebellion. No “Good morning.” Just whispered complaints and restless feet. You try to start the lesson, but the projector won’t turn on. A pencil flies—direct hit. Tears. Whispers. Chaos.

You’re behind already, and it’s not even 10 a.m.

Suddenly, you let out a small scream — sharp, breathless.

Then you jolt awake, heart pounding, eyes wide.

Relief floods in. It was only a bad dream.

The sun peeks through your window, and you realize… maybe the day won’t be perfect, but it doesn’t have to be a nightmare either.

Tomorrow, you’ll face the real first day.

And this blog? Well, it’s here to help you survive those imperfect days — one step at a time.

So welcome. Class is in session — and trust me, you belong here.