Tall, Dark, and Mysterious


Gone fishin’.

File under: Meta-Meta, Know Thyself. Posted by Moebius Stripper at 10:13 pm.

Tomorrow’s the last day of classes before a week-long break, and not a moment too soon: while “brink of insanity” doesn’t quite characterise my present state, it would a week hence if I had to teach and hold office hours next week. Well, technically, the latter is required of me: a few weeks ago, the dean sent an all-staff email telling us that this was Study Week, thankyouverymuch, and that we were to be accessible to our students, who would be on campus availing themselves of our services each and every day, as opposed to skiing or going to Cancun. Fortunately, the tutorial centre is open, and the powers that be in the department seem to subscribe to a don’t-ask-don’t-tell Study Week vacation policy. Not that I’m keeping any secrets, and part of me almost wants to be discovered so that I can counter, “Yeah, I was out of town; what are you gonna do, huh - FIRE ME?”

(My contract, for those of you just tuning in, expires in April. I blog pseudonymously in part because I’m still in the job market and I figure that no one in the Lower Mainland is explicitly looking to hire a twentysomething curmudgeon as a college instructor. That said - is anyone in the Lower Mainland looking to hire a twentysomething curmudgeon as a college instructor? Email me - moebiusstripper at talldarkandmysterious dot ca - if you are.)

Anyway, bottom line: I need the break. I’m exhausted - too exhausted to even crack wise about the source of my exhaustion right now (summary: the students), so I’m going to take a break from this space for the next week as well, even though I have several posts that I want to write and simply don’t have the energy for. And so, I leave a week’s worth of narcissism here in the interim, by turning the topic of my next post over to you.

Your options:

  1. Reflections on Hotel Rwanda
  2. A short story I submitted to the Vinyl Cafe Story Exchange
  3. Everything I Ever Needed to Know About Setting Math Tests, I Learned From My Five-Year-Old Self
  4. The Time I Was A Bridesmaid For My Aunt’s Wedding, and No, Aunt J, I Still Haven’t Forgiven You For That Dress
  5. Snark About Students: The Saga Continues

Also: if anyone I know in real life wants to try their hand at the guest-blogging thang, drop me a line.

See you in March.