Follow the Colons to Freedom

The state of things one week before this Fall ’06 semester began: I was excited, jubilant even. I had spent the whole summer working (Where did those planned trips to the pool go? Those impromptu bar-b-cues? My avid reading list?) and applying to every grad assistantship that made my heart pitter-pat even a smidge faster than usual. Rejection after rejection, then came the e-mail—my bastion of hope. This is what I’d been waiting for: the chance to teach 2 sections of Writing 101.

An observation from Spring ’06 semester: I saw all of those 101 teachers complaining, nursing their wounded egos over pints of lager. I didn’t listen. Part of me was jealous.

The state of things one week after this Fall ’06 semester began: I began my weekly cycle of anxiety, accomplishment, failure, spiraling uncontrollably into despair, anxiety again, with a healthy dose of crying over the phone to my mother on Thursdays. The last time I remember crying before this was during the first scene of the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (which I say the night after going to see Rent), about 9 months before.

The state of things Mid-October of Fall ’06 semester: Yay! Emily is here! We’re watching the end of Buffy and Angel! I can escape into the Whedonverse! Oh wait, the Whedonverse does this pesky thing where it makes you confront your own shortcomings by presented characters in a fictional setting with problems that are almost too real, too like yours. Emily helps me tally grades for group presentations! Callou-Callay! The pending wait of the coming next half of the semester weighs on me in the mornings until I can stuff it back in the box in brain where it came from. I am inattentive and distracted when trying to play well with others.

The state of things as of tomorrow night: How do I teach these things? Wait! WTF is a stasiss grrid? I have 50 papers to grade after Monday. . . noooooo.

What I did to prevent the return of this detrimental cycle in Spring ’07 semester: I made contact with the Creative Writing “people” and let them know: I am willing to teach creative writing or fiction workshop (which I threw in second, because I knew it was a hope-beyond-hope whim) in the spring. I’ve taught 2 sections of 101. I am experienced. (please help)

I made sure that they knew: that I was aware that things might not work out. I was told a little before mid-October that things may just workout to teach creative writing. (The fiction workshop would be taught by full-time faculty.)

The state of things last Tuesday: My friend Ken had his teaching assignment in-hand. (It had already been slated in stone that he would teach the fiction workshop since the beginning of time.) I was told, “You have the 0101 section.” Ken was so proud! I’d gotten the other fiction workshop! I looked at him pensively. “No,” I said, “it’s the Creative Writing one.”

The state of things at the end of this week: I found my classes for the fall, and my name under the fiction workshop list of teachers. But I haven’t signed a contract, so there is still time to continue the cycle.

The state of things now: hoping and hoping and hoping and hoping.

And for those of you still keeping track: The Countdown

No official countdown for these guys. Why are they so happy? Bones comes back this Wednesday! Bom-digi-bom da-dang-da-dang digi-digi!

Countdown until Hugh Laurie hosts SNL: about 8 minutes.