first day of summer class...

as i struggled to open my eyes at an ungodly hour for the month of June, i tried to recall what was going through my mind when i registered for a class that would require me to be up so early. 

i tripped my way up two flights of stairs (yes, I'm one of those people who trips up stairs) and sank down into a chair, only to be told by a faculty member from across the hall, that they moved the class to a room one floor down because the elevator doesn't work and the professor has a hard time walking up steps. that doesn't sound very good. the only thing worse than a professor who's wet behind the ears, is one who is old and hard to understand. oh well, I'm taking this class to transfer anyway, all i need is a pass. 

so i found the second classroom, located the outlets, and took my seat. and observed everyone else as they straggled in. from the looks on their faces, i deduced that they didn't necessarily want to be here either. and from the looks on their faces i was also able to calculate that I'd probably be one of the smarter people in the class.

 the professor introduced himself, (ratemyprofessor.com didn't give him such a good rating, although in my books, speaking English without an accent will ensure a better chance of being liked) announced the class, counted heads (16 people) and told us to expect twice that number. I looked around the room. twenty seats, and thirty two students-yet another class crammed into a classroom without nearly enough seats. Looks like we'll be sitting on each other’s laps this semester. the professor doesn't seem to be too worried about the lack of space, so he's not going to complain and try to get another classroom. in cases like this, the trick is to get to class early enough to ensure breathing space.  

The professor handed out the syllabus (the usual, up to two absences without penalty, daily quizzes on reading material, final is 35% of the grade) and gave us ten minutes to read three pages, one of which was a list of pages to read for each class. So I eight and a half minutes listening to a professor in another classroom talk about where she grew up, went to school, all her former jobs, and her extended family, including her sister-in-law’s younger brother.

Then the professor started teaching. As soon as he started, I knew it was going to be a very long five weeks. The professor has an annoying habit of pausing after each statement he makes. Whether he’s looking for verification of what he says, or daring us to disagree, I have no clue.