Zemblan Grammar

Once again, it feels like Friday, but it’s only Monday, and I find myself staring down the barrel of another long week of teaching. Every day! Every day, I teach. What the hell; when did this start being like an actual job where I have to, like, show up every morning and shit?

I really can’t complain, though, because with only one class, I am enjoying a multitude of small luxuries: I knew everyone’s name on the second day; grading an entire batch of papers only takes 4-6 hours (instead of 24+); I am only in the classroom for 90 minutes a day (instead of 360). This is all very nice.

On the other hand, during this year at Wordsmith, I have gotten used to teaching multiple sections of the same course back to back: if a joke didn’t go over well in the 8:00 class, I could fine-tune it for my 9:30. If I forgot a key point or boffed an important transition, better luck next period! It was kind of nice that way. Well, soon enough (i.e. August), I’ll be back to teaching multiple sections. I guess I’ll enjoy the singleton while I can.

This week is Postmodernism week, and if you know me (and I think that you do), you know that I am always very happy to teach a few of my favorite authors who fall into this period. Students, on the other hand, sometimes seem to enjoy all the ironic self-reference and sometimes not. Today, there was some moment where a student looked at me frowningly and said, “you know, I think I just read this too straightforwardly,” upset, clearly, that a story she thought she had understood had actually whizzed by just over her head. OOPS!

I don’t want people to get discouraged by that sort of thing, so I try to emphasize the fun gamesmanship aspects of the texts, like, “WHEEEEE, let us embark upon a GREAT MYSTERYYYYYY!” This works spottily at best. Sigh. Nonetheless I shall soldier on, as my Favorite Novel Ever makes up the rest of this week’s subject matter, and I barely even have to prep for it since I have read it approximately six hundred forty-seven times.

In other news, it’s Summer in New Wye! It is shitty. It’s so hot and humid that my glasses fog up every time I step outside. It’s so hot and humid that I begin sweating immediately after a shower, and thus it is both futile and impossible to fix my hair or put on make-up. It’s so hot and humid that I am developing an obsession with living above the Arctic circle. I’ll stop here, but I could go on.

In still other news, would anyone like a cat? I am willing to ship internationally — I plan on just rolling her up in a cardboard tube. Maybe I will even punch a few breathing holes in it.

I mean, she’s a great cat, if you do not mind being yowled at all day and all night, but especially between 5:00-7:00 in the morning. Also, she is truly fanstastic for those who enjoy cleaning spite poo from the carpet, and having to throw away various shoes, bags, and other items that have been soaked with vengeance pee. If you like being followed into the bathroom so the needy cat can be petted by you while you sit on the throne, and then being bitten while you are petting her, this is the cat for you! No refunds, no returns.