First days: cockroaches and fear.

From my 1976 Journal

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. 

And here's the thing: the terror, the fear of being unprepared never completely went away. I still have stage fright before every class, even just a little bit. I still have the same dream the night before the first day of classes -- I am late for my flight and discover I left something at home, and go back to get it, making me even later.

So it's hard not to laugh at the inauspicious start to my "last first day": I realized after Jim dropped me off at the Bagel Place that I had left my office keys and ID at home. Since I need them to not only open my office door, but to access my classroom and ride the university shuttle, this was not good. Happily, my luck changed; I found a taxi quickly and was able -- for a price -- go home and get the keys and get back to campus before my first meeting.

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.