I LOVE the beginning of the semester! There's a special magic in the anticipation, in the realization that class is actually beginning. It's before the humdrum of day to day has turned into a sub-sonic buzz that drags you down amidst a clutter of too many coffee cups, too little time, and the aftereffects of too much caffeine fueled prose.
First days are all about the shiny glow of enthusiasm from students who want to prove how smart they are from the get go, of finding the new classroom and not hating it's bad layout, of seeing all those other people reconnecting and getting to do some 'hey, how are you doing' yourself. Of waking up when the alarm goes off and not hating it because you've just reset your schedule. Of rejoicing because of the lovely surprise (even though I shouldn't be surprised by it anymore) of having not as much work to do as I think I do, because of course the first week is almost never about homework that has to be done tomorrow and almost always about anticipation of next week.
And still I managed to sneak D off with me to the coffee shop, filled four pages with an outline for my thesis (and oh dear god it's a pain to try to come up with a thesis for my thesis, other than sounding incredibly lame and saying "well, i'm looking at it because I want to... duh!" I know I won't be able to get away with that.), walked the dog, read a couple of pages in Katherine Hayles' How We Became Posthuman
(which is dense, but I've made a promise to myself that I'm finishing it this weekend, I AM), dye the hair and pick up dinner.
Not bad at all for a Wednesday.