I am a high school student on my first day of classes, and in my hand I hold a timetable, the details of which I cannot completely make out. I am scheduled to attend a class located in a building that is far away from the one where my last class just ended, and I cannot for the life of me figure out why things have been set up this way, when there are just five minutes between classes to get from one place to the next. The realization that I'm going to be late, due to circumstances that are no fault of my own, upsets me. I have no directions to get to this other building, so I walk, briskly, anxiously, down a path that twists and turns and always ends up at a place other than the one I am supposed to find.
Somehow I keep ending up back at the beginning again, walking a different path that leads to a different building that is still not, is never, the correct one.
On one attempt, I finally find the building where my class is, but the class is not the one I signed up for. It's a cooking class, and everything I try to produce in that kitchen fails miserably. I make lame excuses to my teacher for my ineptitude, explaining that I'm used to baking gluten-free and that the recipes just don't make sense to me, that they're not what I'm familiar with. It seems to matter a great deal to me that my teacher understands this, and doesn't think me useless.