End of the first week of classes. Fifteen weeks to go. Yikes, I say.
I love teaching, I love my job, but this semester daunts me. I'm so overwhelmed by the prep work, I haven't had a chance to look up and see the students yet -- one of them stopped me on my way to my car, this afternoon, to tell me how much she was enjoying my class, and I had not the slightest idea who she was, or what class she was in. Swear to God. Couldn't have picked her out of a lineup.
And she is, apparently, an English major. One of the students I'm advising.
This is not a good thing.
Diverse Cultures is going well. We're reading the Tao Te Ching, and it's whacking them out, which is, of course, my main aim, as a professor, to whack my students out. With the TTC, I don't actually have to do much. Wait'll we get to Kafka, I say.