From early September:
I've been scared lately. I just don't feel ready to walk into that class! It seems I should have done more preparation. more reading, more work, when I had the chance. And now it's too late.
Unable to sleep, I decided to come downstairs to think and write. It's the job, of course. And I ended up in the kitchen killing cockroaches.
...and from December:
I think how terrified I was just a few months ago. So afraid to show it, yet ready to wet my pants from sheer nervousness.
I had debated whether or not to let my students in on the significance of this semester, but finally decided what the hell. I informed my 12:30 class that this was my last first day, and gave some special love to my 3:30 class -- my last first class ever. I wish I could say I savored the entire day, as planned, but the truth is that it was a good day, but I am glad it's over. Pneumonia takes the starch out of you, big time. I could not help but notice how easy and comfortable I felt, with only a little bit of first day adrenaline.
And no midnight cockroach massacre in the kitchen this time.