Bullets of Random Shit

Can't make bullets in current browser window. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!! Okay, time to try out my new found html tagging prowess . . . from memory. Dun, dun, dun!

Made an uncharacteristically long comment over at Dr. Crazy's about public and personal voice. Got to quote my favorite academic allusion to pee.

Cried at end of my last class today, after students left. It's the first time I've taught the class - a senior seminar. I am qualified, and am happy to be out of gen ed hell, at least for the moment, but I feel so inadequate. They haven't stumped me yet, but I've never taken a class quite like this, so I have no frame of reference. I just keep asking myself, "Well, what would student Tree want?" and try my best, but continue to feel woefully unprepared.

Just clicked preview to check my tagging skill. yay! I made bullets! Am behind the times, I know.

It amazes me how incredibly self-absorbed young people can be. If you were on a crowded bus, sitting in a much desired seat, next to a standing, tired and frail looking old man (stooped over, silver hair, liver spots, the works), wouldn't you get off your ass and offer the man a seat!?

Do not eat three pieces of Papa John's pan pizza. Really, don't. It does bad things to your body the next day. Stop at two.

Dr. Crazy's aforementioned blogpost argues that bloggers are narcissistic. I was contemplating this when the UPS man rang, and while I was waiting for him make it up to the 9th floor after I buzzed him in, I (1) put on a jacket over my flimsy tank top and (2) went to the mirror to check for Cheetos dust. No longer any need to contemplate.

I have loads of work to do.

Husband and I have a plan to go swimming two mornings a week when we don't *have* to be on our respective campuses until noon. We have yet to make it to the beach. We're supposed to try tomorrow.

I have to put my writing the great American children's gothic novel to rest for a few weeks until I get this semester under control. I am stretched too thin, which is not a good way to begin the semester. I am going to stop being afraid of writing (not sure how, but magic blinking and head nods here I come). But this isn't an issue of fear. It's one of being too damn tired.