Voices at the end of the hall

Back when I was the lonely adjunct at yon university up the hill, I felt most days like a ghost in the machine. As an adjunct, you're the outsider let part-way in--not quite a professor, not quite a maintenance worker. Something in between (although maintenance workers get better benefits, including free tuition for their kids).

Here's another blogger toiling away in the halls of academe: New Kid on the Hallway. Good stuff.

In my new post at the college over the hill and through three toll booths, I feel like a star. The head of the curriculum committee found me after class yesterday and uttered these words: "We've looked for years for someone like you! We're so glad you're here!"

And I almost wept. With those good vibes around, the paycheck is gravy.

Just like last spring, the students are so enthusiastic about the topic (I'm teaching another film history class) that almost every seat was filled 30 minutes BEFORE class started yesterday. I have 75 enrollees, requiring the borrowing of extra chairs to accommodate the overflow. A full half-hour after class I was still standing in the room, answering questions about Double Indemnity and Sunset Boulevard.

So. Much. Fun.

On other fronts: Professor Lunch Guy bought me a salad today. Not sure that the thrill has completely gone. But if he doesn't show some emotion soon, I'm going to tear off his back cover and have the worn out wires and chips replaced.