The Deep End of the Ocean

Classes started this week.  In my first one, my professor said "Cold water, meet deep end."  No kidding.  I'm actually a fan of jumping unabashedly into the deep end, but this is all a bit much for me.  I'm treading furiously until I can get my bearings and adjust to my new schedule of teaching and studenting, but until then, I'm feeling completely overwhelmed.

So I've got pictures for you, instead of word vomit.

They were supposed to give us a sample syllabus for the course I teach, and I was fully planning to follow it.  Don't try to reinvent the wheel, I'm always trying to tell myself.  However, they still haven't done it, and I can't keep waiting forever.  So I found myself planning it like this:

I believe this to be bordering on certifiably insane.  But I have something even crazier to share.  This is a photo of my assignment book, for the assignments that were due this past week, which means they all had to be accomplished before classes had even begun:

And here's the list for next week.  Please note how few cross outs I have yet managed to accomplish.  Yet, I've been reading and planning almost non-stop since Tuesday morning.

Other news in brief: 

I dove for a ball in our softball game last night and tore open my knee.  A nasty scab is forming.  And I didn't even stop the ball.  And we played such a bad single inning that the game ended early on account of the slaughter rule.

Andy Roddick did me a favor by bowing out of the US Open in the second round, so I am no longer tempted to set aside my work for tennis watching.  Though yelling at a lineswoman for mixing up her right and left can hardly be considered "bowing."  I have a lot more to say about this but no time in which to say it.

Must get back to work. 

(The Deep End of the Ocean is a book by Jacquelyn Mitchard that I can remember reading back in the 90s when Oprah put it on her booklist.  I believe it fed nicely into my John Grisham crime novel obsession.)