Things are wonderful and stressful right now (Wonderfully stressful? Stressfully wonderful?) but I've got a real, hard-wired sense of accomplishment about the things I'm doing. I met with my ESL students on Wednesday. There are about nine of them, all Spanish-speaking, all at different levels of language fluency. I was really nervous going into the meeting because 1) I've never taught anything
before and, 2) I always think it's wonderful to be asked
to do something, but tend to get really anxious about actually doing
it. I start teaching next Wednesday (happy birthday to me!) and I've got the weekend to come up with a really slammin' lesson plan.
(Maybe I'll teach them that you should never use the word slammin'
in a sentence. Unless you're a in a Tennessee Williams play and are referring to the act of forcefully shutting a screen door.)
All of the graduate assistant stuff is going well, too. I'm on campus every day, happiest when I feel involved. And man, am I involved.
'Feel like I should get my own cot next to the English department copy machine.
AND. All of this extracurricular (and resume-padding) activity means that I have decided to put in my two weeks' notice with Hallmark. I just can't carry all three parts of my schedule -- classes, research and teaching -- and
make time for Todd and
work retail over the Christmas season. I'm not making fantastic
money with the teaching and the research, but, combined, it's more than I've been getting working at Hallmark, so I figure I should cut the extra weight.
I am not going to miss it.
Also, I've become pathetically, cripplingly, embarrassingly
concerned about the flu. I know this summer was the Summer of the Swine, but CNN has done nothing to allay my fears about all kinds of Super Flus out there, waiting for me on every door handle, handrail and Starbucks cup. My mom bought me this surgical handsoap, Hibicleans, that's supposed to kill 99.9% of germs for up to six hours. Every day I sit next to people with rattling coughs, until the whole room is filled with sounds like sheet metal being put through a thresher. I just want to shrink
in my chair. Eaaaauuugh. The university is offering flu shots for a nominal fee, but I'm reluctant to get one because I've heard that those things can produce side effects in some people that are worse than the flu they're trying to prevent. Is anyone else thinking about getting a flu shot? Have any of you actually sprung
for one? Please tell me that it's all right to come out of my apartment without a face mask. (Which, I've heard, are in danger of being in short supply this winter, too. WHAT THE HELL, PEOPLE?)
And speaking of medical mysteries, they've turned 'House' into a video game
. Todd and I were speculating on what kinds of features were going to be involved and we came up with some pretty fun ideas that will probably be more interesting than the actual game. Like, there should be an "Opiate Meter" that goes up and down, depending on how many palmfuls of Vicodin House takes over the course of the case. More Vicodin mean a happier diagnostician. Fewer mean that he shaves your eyebrows while you're sleeping. And if House has to banter with Cuddy in order to get a wild, out-of-the-box test for his patient, you should have the option to insult her A) Breasts, B) Ass, or C) Glaring administrative incompetency, in order to get what you want.
I wonder if Foreman will still be boring in the video game. Probably.