Awkwardness Level: Expert

So we have a new teacher here at work. He's cute. Now, I haven't actually met him. I haven't talked to him for reasons forthcoming. He could have the personality of toast, he could chew with his mouth open, or he could be a Sox fan. I have no way of knowing. He's likely many (read as twenty) years younger than me. I'm not infatuated with him. I don't know him. And even if I did, I realistically would probably not actually be interested in him. But he's cute. Therefore I cannot talk to him like a sensible, relatively sane adult. I don't know why this is a thing, but trust me - it most definitely is.

The first time I saw him, I ignored him. As I write this I realize that is psychotic behavior. At the time, it seemed like a perfectly sensible thing to do. Instead of simply saying hi and introducing myself, welcoming him to the school, or even just offering a friendly smile, I ignored him. That might have been okay. I mean, if I had just left it at that, he probably would've assumed that I'm an introvert. Or a jerk. Which would be fine. But nooo. Nope, I did not indeed leave it at that. Instead of leaving it like that, I spewed a nonsensical stream of mouth diarrhea to another coworker standing nearby. I stuttered on about paramedics in a story that was neither relevant, nor comprehensible. As I was babbling, my brain was begging me to shut up. "Stop talking! Stop talking! Oh for love of all that is holy, STOP TALKING!" But my mouth wasn't getting the message. When I'd finally exhausted my seemingly endless supply of words, I was met with awkward silence and looks that clearly indicated the general consensus from everyone within hearing range was that I'm mentally unstable.

I ran into the new guy again yesterday. Instead of saying hello like a normal person, or even putting my head down and walking quickly away, I tried to make conversation. Because I don't learn from past mistakes.

While having what could only be described as the lamest conversation in the history of the spoken word, I walked into a door. I literally walked. Into. A. Door.

Don't worry. The whole smashing my face against the window of the door was actually a good thing. It ended the painful conversation that went like this -

"It's hot out today." (I'm excellent at stating the obvious)
"I was at the beach yesterday and it was nice. But it's hot today." (RE-stating the obvious just in case he didn't fully grasp my level of awkwardness the first time.)
"But my sister sent me a picture of snow. I mean, it snowed in Chicago and my sister sent me a picture of it because she lives there in Chicago where it snowed in April today."

You'd walk into a door to escape that too.