God's Compensation/Go to class

Well, you should probably go to class. 5 hours, your class will be over in 3. This time-frame seems pretty good. You tell the doctor as much and he has you guided back out to the waiting room.

“Excuse me, sir!” The receptionist calls out for you as you are trying to leave.

“Yes, what is it?” You ask, walking back up to the desk.

“Sorry, but, we had some trouble with your insurance.” She says, “I'm not sure what's going on, but you are going to have to get in contact with them and figure out what the deal is. We called them up and it seems like they say you are not in their system.”

“What?” You respond, “That doesn't make sense, I have been using this insurance since... well... probably since I was born.”

“Your parent's insurance?” She asks rhetorically, to witch you nod. “Well, it is probably some kind of computing error. I would suggest you should call your parents and have them figure it out with your insurance. We will run your bill to the insurance anyway, they will send you a whatever they don't cover.”

“All right, thanks.” You respond and then proceed on to your class. By the time you slip in the back of the lecture hall, lecture is already half over. You find yourself a seat and attempt to catch up with what she is saying, but the distraction of the earlier events make it hard to focus. Before you know it, you have zoned out and lecture is over. Now it's time to break off into your writing labs. That is when things start to really get strange. It all starts when the grad student in charge of the lab approaches you.

“Excuse me,” he says, “are you in this class?”

“Yeah,” you respond, not knowing how else you would answer a question like that.

“What's your name?” He asks, “I don't think I've seen you in here before.” Once you have supplied your name, he gets a puzzled look on his face and goes back to his computer. “Sorry, I don't see your name on the roster,” he says, “can you give me your student ID number?” You supply this as well, and he quickly keys it in. “I don't think that's your student ID number,” he tells you. What the hell?

“I'm pretty sure it's right,” you challenge him, and rattle off the number you have long since memorized again.

“Yeah, well, according to this that would make you a female red-head named Veronica Heathers in the veterinary tech program. I am pretty sure that is not you.”

“What?” You ask aloud, scrambling for your wallet and pulling out your student ID card. You show him the card and he takes a look at it, confirms the number and matches the photo to your face, and then hands it back to you.

“I don't know what to tell you,” he says, “I would take it up with the registrar's office, but I can't have you in here because you are not registered for this class.”

Rather than argue the point further, you concede defeat and walk out of the class room on his instruction. You just don't get it, you recognize the faces of the other students in that class and the lab-tech called on you the first day in there and has been accepting your work when you handed it to him. There is something very strange going on here. Could it be that you are really going crazy?

• Go to the registrar's office
• Try to find some people you know
• Call your parents