Nervousness. It’s a feeling I’d felt multiple times before, but this was a different kind. This wasn’t the usual stage fright. This wasn’t the type where I could calm myself down with some deep breaths. No, this had way more on the line. I always had trouble presenting, and now, I had the weight of being a teacher to these kids, a mentor even. One mistake could result in them not getting the learning they deserve. This wasn’t just me and my pride on the line, other people depended on me. I was the person meant to serve as their bridge to more opportunities. Jitters surged through my body as I sat down and stared at my computer screen. Calming music serenaded my ears in an attempt to keep hold of whatever sanity I had left. I watched the timer in the top right corner slowly count as if it were a countdown towards my inevitable doom and my mouse hovered over the “unmute” button as my heart pounded faster and faster, harder and harder. I felt like an infinite while loop, constantly convincing myself, then immediately doubting myself. I felt like a error in a line, stopping the rest of the code from functioning. And finally, it was time. As I began, anxiety turned into enthusiasm, unease into eagerness. While I ended the ordeal with a wave and a goodbye, I knew it wasn’t going to last. It would inevitably come up again and again until the end of time, at least until I got used to this feeling; this was just a respite.