Wait, what was my password again?
Oh, right.
I stuck a blank label to my credit card and wrote "Use me sparingly, please," with a green Sharpie. Not only have I completely disobeyed my credit card's plea to avoid purchasing things made of pine from the IKEA warehouse floor, but now I have to endure the embarrassment of handing over a bonafide Note-To-Self to strangers every time I make a purchase. They're judging me, I just know it. I suppose I could remove the sticker, but then I might forget to get out of debt.
I interviewed for a teaching position this morning. After a grueling two hours during which I bounced between self-induced confidence and failure to complete full sentences, they offered me a developmental writing course on Tuesdays and Thursdays. We adjourned to the secretary's office and she called Bedford/St. Martin's to order 20 copies of a textbook for "Professor Bryant." I nearly shat my pants with glee.
I'm excited. I can't wait to start coming up with writing and homework exercises. I'm thinking about what books to add to my syllabus. How shall I structure my grading and attendance policies? Should I wear my glasses to reflect a professorial soul? Where can I get a jacket with elbow patches?
Wow. An actual foot on the path to my career goal. It feels lovely, like pistachio Ciao Bella smeared all over my face because I no longer have roommates to set the standards of cleanliness. I guess this is what it's like to be in my house.
I stuck a blank label to my credit card and wrote "Use me sparingly, please," with a green Sharpie. Not only have I completely disobeyed my credit card's plea to avoid purchasing things made of pine from the IKEA warehouse floor, but now I have to endure the embarrassment of handing over a bonafide Note-To-Self to strangers every time I make a purchase. They're judging me, I just know it. I suppose I could remove the sticker, but then I might forget to get out of debt.
I interviewed for a teaching position this morning. After a grueling two hours during which I bounced between self-induced confidence and failure to complete full sentences, they offered me a developmental writing course on Tuesdays and Thursdays. We adjourned to the secretary's office and she called Bedford/St. Martin's to order 20 copies of a textbook for "Professor Bryant." I nearly shat my pants with glee.
I'm excited. I can't wait to start coming up with writing and homework exercises. I'm thinking about what books to add to my syllabus. How shall I structure my grading and attendance policies? Should I wear my glasses to reflect a professorial soul? Where can I get a jacket with elbow patches?
Wow. An actual foot on the path to my career goal. It feels lovely, like pistachio Ciao Bella smeared all over my face because I no longer have roommates to set the standards of cleanliness. I guess this is what it's like to be in my house.
3 Comments:
Squee! I'm calling you tomorrow (today) for the deets.
That's wonderful news. Will you be teaching where you completed graduate course work? And do you have your own office with your own personalized door nameplate and so forth?
It's a different school. And I'm not yet cool enough to have my own nameplate, much to the chagrin of my students who are sure to want to deface it.
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