Disaster office

Description: Model Essay 1 Disaster Office I knew that professor Cassidy was excellent professor from the first day I attended one of his chemistry classes. He was prompt, perfectly prepared for class and delivered a lecture that was organized, clear, and interesting. In fact, I tried to emulate his behavior in my own studies. The first time I visited his office, however, I realized that these qualities of his didn’t extend outside the classroom. To my surprise, his office environment seemed to reflect the very opposite of his classroom persona: it was a disorderly mess, and I felt as if I’d stumbled upon the aftermath of a natural disaster. When I arrived, the secretary told me to go head and wait in the office, since Professor Cassidy had stepped out for a few moments. I was soaked because there had been a downpour of rain earlier in the day, and it was still drizzling when I had arrived on campus. As I walked along the corridor, I could see a trial of muddy footprints leading down the hall, eventually stopping at Professor Cassidy’s office door. I peeked inside at the tiny room, so small it could barely accommodate a desk and extra chair. There was a metal coat rack just inside the door, its base surrounded by a fresh grey puddle flowing form a red umbrella propped against the rack. There was also a small collection of about six sneakers and rubber boots in disarray on a rubber mat. One orphan shoe, its brown leather scuffed and wrinkled, lay on its side in the puddle. The rack itself held a wet raincoat as well as a jean jacket and mass of assorted colorful sweaters, some barely hanging on by their sleeves. The musty smell emanating from the damp wool made me feel as if I’d stumbled into a basement closet by mistake. Suddenly I was assailed by another odor—a pungent, sour, acrid smell that wafted across the room. As I surveyed the room I noticed a coffee maker sitting on a ledge by the window-it was the smell of stale coffee that had been left on the warming element too long. The glass carafe contained a hard, black, glossy substance that had dried onto the bottom of the pot. In addition, there were doffed stains like brown polka dots all over the shelf on which the coffee make stood. I found it hard to believe that Professor Cassidy could work in this king of environment–but this was only the beginning of my enlightenment. The rain continued to tap on the open window, which allowed some stray raindrops to enter the room through the screen at its bottom, spraying the assortment of cups and plates on the window ledge. Beside the mugs was a small potted plant, its thin neglected leaves now yellowed and