SS: Poetry

The theme at Sunday Scribblings this week is Poetry. Incidentally, Sunday Scribblings prompts tend to yield bits of silly verse from me. Here's what I got this time with an explicit assignment to write a poem:

There once was a blogger named Twit
Who fancied herself quite the wit.
When told to write a poem,
She let her mind roam,
And the result was this verse of shit.

Limericks are fun :).

There's a new one

I have had increasingly less to say about teaching as time goes on, due in large part to few things striking me as particularly novel anymore. If you factor out the semester I took off, this is the start of my fourth year of teaching; with the time off accounted for, it's the latter half of my third year.

Even the more egregious student behavior seems blase after you've seen it a few times.

That said, never before yesterday have I been in the middle of the class, lecturing, no less, writing on the board, and been interrupted by a student coming into my classroom asking for directions. From me.

At first, I thought she might have been one of my students, straggling in very, very late, an hour into a 75-minute class. She looked at me expectantly, like she had a question, and granted, I do not readily recognize student faces yet, so I asked what she needed. She asked where to find a location for a room and building I did not recognize as being on the campus. I was a little surprised by the interruption of class for directions, so instead of telling her we were in the middle of class, I instead said I didn't recognize the location. She pulled out her planner and showed me the class name, room, and time she was looking for.

"Oh," I told her. "That's this room. In half an hour."

"OK," she said, and walked right back out.

I have to give that class credit for not bursting into laughter as I would have been tempted to do were I watching the proceedings. Still, this incident is one of several signs I've been seeing that seem to suggest a more oblivious student population than previous semesters. I may have more stories yet.

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Now playing: On The Last Day - At The Breaking Of The World
via FoxyTunes

Too bad my birthday has already passed...

Ah, the Internet has everything. I've joked about wanting a "WTF" stamp for student papers.

Turns out I could have one if I wanted, thanks to the creative folks at Etsy.

Oh man. And there's "FAIL" and "epic FAIL."

I dare not. I have nothing near tenure and might actually use them...

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Now playing: Bayside - Kellum
via FoxyTunes

Sets of three, leave them be

My semester's gotten off to a rough start. Teaching two different classes on two different campuses on different days has extended the first day's madness to first two days' madness.

I'm also starting to wonder if three is an unlucky number for me, which is a bit saddening. It could be a bit of identification, but I've always been partial to odd numbers. Until this week, I quite liked three.

The first three-related mishap pertained to my syllabi. I had campus #1's syllabi copied off and was beginning to staple them when I realized I had run off too many copies; no sweat, thought I. I shall put the extras in a separate stack. I was proud of myself, even, for having caught and corrected my mistakes.

Until I realized that on my way out in the morning, I had grabbed one class's syllabi... and the stack of unstapled extras. That one took a bit of last-minute sense-talking and reassuring from my mentor to correct the problem, but I got over it and had a more or less decent day after that.

My second three-related woe follows a parallel track. The item in question this time was a set of keys. On Monday, I picked up my keys from campus #2; at the time, I was borrowing my mother's car while mine was in the shop. Once I had my car back, I left her the keys on her dresser. It was one of three sets of keys that were in my purse--my car and home keys, my office keys, and the borrowed car keys.

Yes, by this time you probably guessed it--I left my mom the office keys and still had her car key. Luckily, I was able to throw myself upon the mercy of both the department secretary and my officemate to get around the inconvenience, but I sure felt dumb. The car keys, also, were a spare set and so caused no inconvenience there.

I swear, I am developing all the scatter-brained professorial tendencies and none of the accompanying wisdom and stature.

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Now playing: Death Cab for Cutie - Someday You Will Be Loved
via FoxyTunes

Here we go again

Tomorrow, a meeting and the copying of syllabi. Tuesday, all hell breaks loo--

Aherm. Classes start again. I am eager and enthusiastic to mold young writers. And get paid. And have a more concrete schedule and purpose to dress in clothing nicer than merely jeans and T-shirts. And get paid. And, aw heck, I'm really trying to get myself excited here, and all I've managed so far is a "meh."

Selective attention to detail

My out-of-town company asked last week to be taken to the library, that is, if the library was still open at the time. I glanced at my watch--shortly before 7 in the evening. The library is open until 9 p.m. Monday through Thursday, so yeah, I said, the library is open.

We got there to find a closed library.

I was absolutely correct in my memorization of the library's hours, and I can recite from memory my library card numbers for two of the public library systems; however, I had missed the memo that it was not Thursday, as I had thought, but Friday.

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Now playing: Emilie Autumn - Misery Loves Company
via FoxyTunes