Friday, September 11, 2009

Whirlwind Week I Recap

Back-to-school! I missed it. I really did. Caveat: I did not miss the fact that undergraduates are not capable of walking in a straight line or not blocking other people as they try to get where they need to go. But I missed teaching and all that other jazz.

Tuesday: department meeting (boo U of T); department lunch (macaroni salad is gross); team meeting (teaching for my course director is going to be a hoot); orientation (new students are so cute! They all seemed really young, but they're probably not that young. Not enough men); Victory Cafe (oh, chicken club, how I love you even though chipotle mayonnaise is heart-attack on a bun); GO Bus (why did I decide to move to the suburbs again?); bed.

Wednesday: finish planning Thursday tutorial; finally figure out how to get photocopying done (sweet!); first lecture for the class I'm T.A.-ing (a cross between Canadian History and CanLit. Should be interesting--and dual purpose as prep for my comp); Glee! My favourite line: "My first suggestion would be that the offending students be sent to foster homes." My second favourite line: "That's the most offensive thing I've ever seen in my twenty years of teaching, and that includes an elementary school production of Hair."

Thursday: teach (second years are adorably confused. I make them tell quirky stories about themselves so that I'll remember their names--hilarious!); learn how to use the scanner in the office, which can't output the kind of file that I need it to; lunch; comp reading; teach (how did I get stuck in the sub-basement of the Nursing buildling? It sounds like a bad joke); try another scanner, which also can't do the kind of file I need; home; dinner; succumb to total exhaustion at about 9.

Friday: GO train to Union--subway to Davisville--bus to Glendon. Trip from home to class: about 2 hours. Dayum! Shakespeare lecture: combined graduate and honours fourth-year class. Easier for me? I hope so. Listen to a great lecture about many Richards and Henrys. Watch Kenneth Branagh promise to kick France's ass from here to next Tuesday over a box of tennis balls. Back downtown. Get snuck into an AMAZING SSHRC preparation seminar by someone who shall remain nameless because I don't want to get him/her in trouble. Read Henry V. Home. Swiss Chalet. Blog. Walk. Bed

Rinse. Repeat.