I am, despite all evidence to the contrary, still alive and kicking in blog-land. It hasn’t been *this* blog, but that is neither here nor there. I think of you guys often, and have missed you terribly. But guys grad school is super busy and it gets even busier once the coursework is *done* who knew?! So writing here has, unfortunately, fallen by the wayside.
Or it had, until one of my colleagues asked me to be a guest speaker on our departmental podcast, where I was going to get a chance to talk about working in academia with a disability. This is super exciting to me, because, as y’all know, it’s a topic near and dear to my heart. And that podcast made me think that I should really pop back in here. And then my brain finally kicked into gear, and realized that I should be promoting the blog on the podcast. But I wanted to have something a bit nicer to promote. The cobwebs around here are pretty embarrassing. But I think the conversations I want to have here are really important, and so, in the best interests of the blog, I upgraded my WordPress a little, and thus, a domain name was born. Tell your friends, your family, your well-intentioned-but-missing-the-point coworkers… adjunctinthedark.com lives! (It may be going through some growing pains for the next few weeks, because I am bad at WordPress, but it still counts as living. Please be patient).
I want to promise that I’m going to develop a more consistent blog schedule, now that I’m paying money to maintain this, and will maybe even have an audience. And while I really do intend to do this, a trip through the archives today has shown me that, embarrassingly enough, I have made that promise no less than eight times. So, take it with the grain of salt that you obviously should, because my brand of dumpster-fire apparently never changes. But I’m going to try. I would really like this to become a good platform for the issues in higher education that affect the under-paid and under-represented, and also a place where my rampant and unappreciated sarcasm can be broadcast to the world.
So, if you’ve been here since the beginning, bless you and your descendants for hanging around. And if you’re new, welcome! I really, really hope to be talking to you on the regular, and I hope you’ll stick with me.
And because other things never change, please excuse me while I go lesson plan for my class…tomorrow.
Second semester of my first year in the doctorate program has just gotten underway as of this morning, so it seemed as good a time as any to pop up out of the churning waves, gasping and flailing, to attempt a more consistent blogging schedule. This semester I am no longer an adjunct in the dark; instead I am a writing tutor in the dark, so in theory there should be more time without all that pesky grading. But the title of gradstudentinthedark still firmly remains as an implied subtitle, so I’m sure there will be plenty of madness to fill these pages.
I am reassured of this fact by the following information:
-My house is an absolute mess.
-My countertops are invisible under a pile of dirty dishes and tins of tea.
-You could knit a rather nice sweater out of the amount of cat hair in my house.
-I just figured out my schedule…today, for the semester that started…today.
-I still don’t actually know what I’m supposed to do for the other half of my job.
-It’s the first Monday and I’m already upset I have to go to work tomorrow.
-…this is only the first day of the semester.
See? Plenty of chaos. Some of it might not even be whining. But writing tutoring is also a brand new experience, one which will bring me into contact with the ranks of students beyond my freshman composition classes. And there is just nothing about that that promises any sort of awful normality.
And speaking of sleep in the worst segue ever, this is a thing I should do. Because if you can’t be well-rested for Monday, tell it to bugger off and shoot for Tuesday instead.
A happy belated new-year for anyone still hanging around in the void-that-is-the-blog. I hope to bring you tales of strange chaos and utter madness soon.
I was doing so well with keeping up posting here, and then I just…failed. This fall hit me hard. I couldn’t really tell you why. But my energy levels have been at less than 0. But I’m back in action now, so let’s hope it holds.
Translation: I’m submitting PHD applications, prepping my students for their final research papers, and trying to prepare for the holidays. So, go go gadget procrastination.
I won’t do a recap of the entire semester here, because frankly, none of you really care that much. I don’t, either. But let’s say it’s been a little rough. I can’t tell if it’s my lack of enthusiasm, or if I just have the biggest collection of bums ever, but we are just not making headway. They are not bad kids, but they are lazy, and ballsy about being lazy. I am also lazy, and we are just having a big old collaborative laze-fest that is not getting things done.
Some of my favorite examples of our issues:
“I didn’t get the essay. So I didn’t do it.” (We had been working on it in class for 20 minutes.)
“Can I get some help? Also how do I do citations.” (the evening *after* we turned the paper in.)
“We have to read the whole thing?” (I gave them class time to read an article they were supposed to read for homework.)
So I think it might be a combo. Grad apps season also means that my brain is not totally on teaching. So I’m working on being better–if I have more pep, maybe they will too. I’m also hoping stuffing myself with potatoes and pie for the next three days will put a bit of zip back in me. Or it will send me into a food coma. I will take either.
And, finally, since I know you were all dying to hear about it…
THE TEACHERS LOUNGE SAGA CONTINUES!
So, either my colleagues are paranoid, or actual hot magma comes out of the coffee machine.
Me: *creeps in, trying not to interrupt jabbering ladies*.
Jabbering ladies: blah blah blah, What Not to Wear, so-and-so’s grandpa…*slow fade to silence*.
Me: *continues to be awkward. Grabs cup for coffee.*
Jabbering ladies: *whisper whisper, mumble something about coffee*.
Single jabbering lady: *comes over* it’s hot. Do you need help? I don’t want you to burn yourself. It’s REALLY hot.
Me: I’m fine. It’s…I’m…I’ve got it.
Lady: *looks dubious*.
Me: *collects coffee. Waves like manic idiot. Flees.*
And they keep going silent and watching me when I go in there. It is coffee, not lava. Calm down, people. It’s getting to the point where I don’t even go in there if I can hear people–the worried staring is just uncomfortable for everybody.
So, I hope that amused you, or at least told you my sense of humor has not improved. I’m going to try going back to around once a week. If that doesn’t happen…someone poke me. I either got lazy, or I’m taking a cross-country hike to go throw eggs at the ETS building.
…or I crawled under my bed and am refusing to come out. Anything is possible.