I’m not teaching today. I’m not going to campus. If I’m being honest with myself, I don’t even want to get up from my chair because there’s a cat sitting on me and I’ve got my blanket placed in the perfect way so it’s separating me from the chair and covering my legs. This is …
Maybe I Forgot How Often I’m Bad at Writing
I sometimes forget how probable it is that I will one day fall down the stairs. No matter how many times I skip down them with drunk feline grace, or how many times I lug dangerously bloated trash bags down without meeting disaster, I will inevitably fuck up. There is nothing I will do perfectly …
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New Reputation: Selling Ducks
Apparently, it takes about a week in my class before my students stop being surprised when I ask them to do something like picking a rubber duck from a basket and writing a detailed presentation and sales pitch advertising their duck to an audience of robots who have just learned to love. It takes about …
Every Time I Teach Hungover
I imagine seeing me hungover is a rite of passage of sorts for students in my class. They can come every day, learn everything I’ve got to teach, laugh at all my jokes--”laughing at my jokes not mandatory but is demonstrative of a well-rounded sense of humor and a strong moral compass,” as I wrote …
Students in the Cave
I’ve always had this fantasy going in my head that I would one day retire, sell all my assets, and travel the country. Then, in these travels, I’d encounter a cave. I’d explore deep into it, walking for hours, finding all manner of subterranean dangers like massive spiders and sudden cliffs that look over the …
