I’ve been teaching for twenty-seven years and honestly? I’m terrified. Like, every single morning I walk into that building and I feel like a fraud because of a piece of plastic and some glass. It’s 2:14 AM and I’m staring at my lesson plan on the laptop, just repeating "Windows-L to lock, Ctrl-Shift-T to reopen the tab" over and over like it’s some kind of magic spell. I have a literal cheat sheet taped to the bottom of my desk, tucked right behind the drawer handle where nobody can see it. It’s pathetic, you know? Today during the department meeting, that new girl, Sarah—she’s literally 23 and looks like she’s playing dress-up in her mother’s blazers—she leaned over while I was trying to mirror the screen to the Smartboard. My hands were shaking, just a little, and I could feel the heat rising up my neck. I hit Alt-Tab real quick to switch back to the syllabus before she could see the "how to connect HDMI to projector" Google search I had open. She smiled and said something about how fast I am with the hotkeys and I just laughed and said "efficiency is key, right?" but inside I was screaming. I’m just one misclick away from everyone realizing I don't actually know how any of this works. My evaluation is coming up in three weeks and my principal is obsessed with all this tech-integration stuff and I know they're watching me. If I can't look like I'm a "digital native" or whatever they call it, they're going to push me toward early retirement or stick me in some administrative hole where I'll rot. So I spend my evenings memorizing these stupid combinations. Command-Space. Ctrl-F. It’s like learning a whole new language just to prove I still belong in a room I’ve owned since before these kids were born. I’m a good teacher, I really am—I can explain the Gatsby themes better than anyone in the district—but if I can't make the slide deck transition smoothly, it's like none of the actual teaching matters anymore. I see them looking at me. The students. They’re so fast, like their brains are wired directly into the Wi-Fi or something. I caught one of them, a sophomore named Leo, watching me yesterday when I couldn't get the sound to play through the speakers.