And we're off

The Fall quarter has begun in earnest now (my school runs on 10-week long quarters rather than 14-week semesters), and I'm already feeling buried under all of my reading. I'm taking an American literature course that has a very ambitious syllabus -- the first 41 chapters of Moby Dick by Tuesday, for example. My other course isn't any lighter, as it includes assignments like "read Shelley's Prometheus Unbound for Tuesday. Then disregard all of your hard work and read Don Juan for Thursday." If I didn't love books with an unhealthy passion, I'd have an aneurysm just thinking about this. My students (much unlike me right now) seem capable, bright, and on the whole willing to participate in the ridiculous discussions about writing that I make them have. I've got the requisite smart-ass boy in the back of the room, and at least one girl who is always doing something other than what she's supposed to be doing. For example, perusing a campus map when I'm talking about how to get an A on the next assignment. Finding the library would help, but I doubt that's what she was looking for. I'm expecting this to be the best class I've taught yet (my 4th), mostly because I'm actually interested in what I'm teaching now that I've broken away from the analyzing-American-culture syllabus. I'm also beginning (far too late, as usual) to look at PhD programs. As an Anglo-Saxonist and an eco-critic, I'm rather limited in my choices of scholars to work with. I only know of one big-name scholar working in exactly my field, and he's at UC Berkeley. Don't worry -- I think it's hilarious, too. I'm applying anyway though; just on the off chance that they let a charity case in every year. It's rather daunting looking through all of the programs and their requirements, and also trying to figure out whom to ask for recommendation letters. I've only known the professors here for a year, and we didn't have a senior Anglo-Saxonist this past year either. So I won't have a recommendation from someone in my field who's established in the profession, which might hurt me a bit. I'm also worried about my behavior over the last 12 months, before I was diagnosed with a pretty nasty anxiety disorder. I've since become medicated and able to function (if not normally, at least functioning is an improvement), but I doubt that anyone will be able to write me glowing letters that mention my confidence, brilliance, and prowess as a researcher. But I'm trying not to worry. Trying so very hard. And baking cookies while I stomp through Moby Dick.