Switching rooms and Teaching classes

I hadn't really gotten a chance to totally settle into my new apartment when I was told that I was going to be moving.
Not a huge move (from 19th floor to the 17th floor) but still a pain in ass considering I had only unpacked all my things 2 days before.
The reason for moving; my apartment mate, Aadel (really lovely dude from London), couldn't sleep because of the construction noise outside. A footnote reason was the fact that our drain in the kitchen smelled like baby diapers. Dirty ones. REALLY dirty ones.
So being the laid back, not complain about anything dude that I am, I quietly packed my stuff back up and moved it down two floors.
When I entered the room, I was thrown for a complete loop.
Even though the furniture, design, artwork, everything was exactly identical to every other apartment in the place, everything was flipped.
I hadn't factored in the idea that being on the other side of the building would also mean that the layout would be flipped. Instead of walking in and making a left into the kitchen and living room, it was now a right. Instead of making a right to walk to my bedroom, it was now a left. The fridge was now on the right side of the kitchen instead of the left. So on and so forth.

I unloaded my bags, getting quite grumpy in the process, and then headed over to the McCarthy's for a celebration of Dale's birthday.
After steaks, Nick stories, and laughs.... I jumped in a cab and got back to my room at 1am.
Preparing for my first day of teaching and my inner hypochondriac kept me awake until nearly 430am before I passed out like an epileptic goat (strange reference.... yeah..... but true).

In a zombie like state, I woke up late and headed for the bathroom. My eyes were heavy and as squinty as Tommy Chong's as I stumbled onward. My autopilot was in complete control.
BUT, my autopilot had not been informed of the new layout of my apartment, hence me sitting right into the bidet instead of the toilet seat.
I now understand the sentiment of women's constant nagging to "PUT THE TOILET SEAT DOWN WHEN YOU ARE DONE".
I felt like Alice falling down the rabbit hole until my "man bits" crashed into the porcelain and had me jumping like an old person when you throw firecrackers in the kitchen. (Who does that?!?!)
My eyes burst open and I was awake. Awake, in pain, and grumpy again.
Brilliant way to start the day.

It took me a few hours to snap out of the funk but by the time the imaginary lunch bell rang, I was back to normal.
Sat down for a nice lunch with Lauren and some of her family friends at The Market before hurrying back up to set up for my first teaching lesson.

After some technical hiccups, my 3 "students" (not naming names) and I were off and running in Final Cut. 1 was a familiar with the program, 1 knew some things, and 1 was a complete beginner.
By the end of the 2 hour lesson, I felt confident that they'd be able to assemble at least a rough cut and export it.
By the end of the night, to my surprise, the two "beginners" were showing me excellent projects that they had cut together.
I felt quite a sense of accomplishment and pride in what they had done.

I am a teacher.
And apparently not too shabby at it.

Now I need to stop writing blogs at 130am and go to sleep because I have another class to teach tomorrow.

Is this what my professors did?
Stay up all night doing a fantasy baseball draft, drinking Jack, and writing blogs before coming in bleary eyed and sharing their knowledge of the production world???
If so, I am on the right track.