Normally by this time in the summer, I am ready and even kind of excited to be getting back into the semester. Looking forward to more structure and the excitement that can come with a new bunch of students. And the weather–how I love the fall weather.
But not this year. Semester begins tomorrow and I’m feeling nothing but dread. There are a bunch of reasons, but they don’t really matter. What matters is that I need to rally because come Tuesday morning (at 8am–ugh) I am going to have to sell an arts-themed composition course to a group of brand-new freshman, and I am going to have to wrap my brain around the online course I’m teaching for the first time. Were I in a different frame of mind, these things might feel challenging in an exhilarating way. But as it is, I find myself employing the trick-of-mind I often use when enduring a long, trying experience: imagining myself at the other end of it. In this case, imagining Josephine’s birthday at the end of November, Christmas and even further off–next year this time. It helps some.
What I should be doing is setting up a rigorous daily schedule of work and writing and exercise and whatever else. I will probably do some of that tonight, and tomorrow I’ll do the last run-through of my course materials to make sure I’m prepared.
Okay. Here I go.