I refuse to tell this story again. Let's just say that for at least 24 hours I was seriously doubting my drive to be a professor. Do I really want to put up with freshman for the next two years of my life? There are slightly more pleasant things to do, like kicking myself in the face (hypothetically).
But then today the class just seemed to click. The "focused freewrite" that I stole from Plicka worked for one of my students--so much so that she asked if we could do it the rest of the day. I told her we had other things to do in class, but she was welcome to freewrite for the rest of the day after class. In fact, I told her that she should cancel her hot date. "Sorry I can't go out tonight. I'm freewriting."
That and Nick Mason is supporting my goal to go to Chicago for my PhD. Take that, all you nay-sayers.
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I will let you build a little nest in the corner of my bedroom and we can read poetry. . . of course, this will be after you leave me for approx. 18 months.
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