Today, I received the monthly newsletter from my leasing office. I live in a corporate-owned apartment complex, so much of the newsletter is generic filler. This month, my corporate slumlords passed on a recipe for Microwave White Chicken Chili, offered advice on reducing credit card debt, and reminded me that January 28 is "National Write to Congress Day." All useful information. The column about snow is less useful, particularly since it was 60 some-odd degrees today.
The monthly newsletter usually finds itself on the fast track to the recycling bin. Today, as I prepared to be environmentally responsible, two colored sheets drifted to the floor. I picked them up and read two very important announcements from the bitter, humorless leasing agents.
This month, the Little Leasing Dictators (LLDs) alerted us to "damage to the main gate during the holiday break." I should back up a bit and explain that the apartment complex prides itself on perceived exclusivity. Yes, we have a gate, and yes, you need a special card to gain entry into the enclave. But, there's no fence. Just to review: Gate? Yes. Fence? No. In case you're wondering, I do pay extra for this service.
Anyway, at some point during the holidays, someone got really annoyed with the gate and rammed it. Rammed it hard enough to break the little motor and leave half of the gate hanging at a terribly depressing angle. I'm not sure when it happened. All I know is that there is a little piece of crime-scene tape still dangling from the privacy-not-security gate.
So, the LLDs want us all to know that "the damage was so severe, that we are having to have extensive repairs done. This may take a little bit of time." They "apologize for the inconvenience" and ask for our patience. Yeah, I'm torn up about being able to drive on to the property without having to stop and press my magic card to the metal plate.
In other apartment news, "There is a serious problem with pet owners being irresponsible!" Serious enough to warrant an exclamation point! Apparently, the LLDs "are seeing more and more pet waste left on the grounds" and they ain't happy. Not happy at all. In this full-page reminder, they inform pet-owners and non-pet-owners alike that "cleaning up after your pet is easy and REQUIRED." (Emphasis in original). They're not taking any more crap from you, or your little dog.
I can just imagine the discussion at the monthly leasing office staff meeting:
Groundskeeper #1: Man, I saw 4 huge mounds of pet waste today.
Groundskeeper #2 (no pun intended): Oh yeah, well, I saw 6 mounds, and one was still warm.
Brown-nosing LLD intern: Gosh, what can we do to address this problem of critical importance?
Head LLD: I know! I'm going to fire off one of my flyers on bright orange paper with BOLD CAPITAL LETTERS and exclamation points!! That's sure to fix this problem!
Brown-nosing LLD intern: You're so smart. I can't wait until I can send out orange flyers with exclamation points!
Slacker LLD intern: I can't believe we're spending all this time talking about dog crap.
So, the Head LLD went to her computer and composed the flyer. Not content to merely remind pet owners that cleaning up is REQUIRED, she added the following: "Pet owners - We have seen the culprits that are not cleaning up after their dogs. We are watching to see if you CLEAN UP your act."
Good to see my rent money going to good use. Apparently, I'm paying people to watch dogs relieve themselves. I wonder if everyone on staff is required to perform this duty (or "doody"), or if one fellow literally got the shit end of the stick. Wonder if they've designated one of their golf carts for the Poopy Patrol. The groundskeeper drives around all day in the now-brown cart, waiting for pet owners to bring their dogs outside. Then, he screeches to a stop, disembarks, and watches. I believe the dog might be thinking, "Dude, I don't need an audience." What's next? The groundskeepers start sending samples to the College Town Crime Lab for definitive identification?
Wonder if the groundskeepers get into arguments about particular evidence:
Groundskeeper #1: "Oh yeah, that's from the golden retriever in Apt A."
Groundskeeper #2: "Dude, you're crazy. That's not from a golden retriever. That's from that schnauzer in Apt B."
Groundskeeper #1: "Schnauzer, my Aunt Fannie. The only way that came from a schauzer is if that schnauzer was a golden retriever."
[If they have these conversations, I might recommend that they seek other employment.]
The flyer concludes: REMEMBER: IF YOU DO NOT CLEAN UP AFTER YOUR PET, YOU WILL LOOSE THE PRIVILEGE OF HAVING A PET AT [name withheld to protect the innocent] APARTMENTS."
I certainly wouldn't want to "loose" the privilege of having a pet. Wouldn't want poor Fido to be evicted.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Finally caught up with me
Today, I awoke in my own bed, having survived the first week of classes. This is shaping up to be a semester of ups and downs. I'm particularly pleased that none of my classes are full. I don't care why students are avoiding my classes. The end result is less work for me - and I'm not complaining about that. Another plus is that I'm teaching the same class as last semester, so most of the prep is done. This semester, I'm intentionally working on incorporating more in-class assignments. This is a much easier task than starting from scratch.
A major downside is my schedule. I start at noon, have three classes back to back to back, then I cool my heels for 3 hours. Three whole hours. Just think of all the things you can do in three hours. You could watch "Saving Private Ryan." You could cook and eat a pot roast. You could enjoy a gala charity event. In the context of my daily existence, I could drive from Big City University to my house in College Town and turn around and drive back.
Instead of doing any of these things, I cool my heels for 3 hours. This extended break is late enough in the day, not to mention at the end of three consecutive classes, that my brain doesn't work anymore. So, if you're going to suggest that I use that time to get real academic work done, save your breath. I'm good for the first 90 minutes, then I can actually feel my brain shutting down. I'm mentally closed for business around the time that all of my colleagues pack it in for the day. I can literally feel a curtain coming down in my head. The little lights in my brain go out, one by one, each one calling out, "OK, that's it for today. See you tomorrow." This is not good, particularly since I have one more group of students to entertain.
This week, I've tried two strategies to try to stop the curtain. Neither were successful. On Monday, I tried to complete administrative tasks (code for: catching up on email and other internet happenings.) I had dinner at about 6PM, thinking that the food would perk me up. Nope. Leftover beef stew just made me all warm and cozy. Curtain continued to come down. Luckily, Monday was an easy night. I reviewed the syllabus and called it a night.
Wednesday, I tried something new. I got coffee after my late afternoon class. I enjoyed a caffiene high for about 90 minutes. Then, the curtain came. Not only was I mentally and physically tired, but I was also in caffiene freefall. Crap. Again, dinner didn't have the desired effect and I struggled through the class. It took every ounce of mental energy to concentrate on what I was saying. I'm not convinced that I was coherent. Next idea: Coffee injection 30 minutes before class. If that doesn't work, I'm bringing a pillow and blanket and settling in for a long winter's nap.
One bright spot in all of this is that the Evening Edition students seem to be good students. Enough of them read the assignment so we had a good discussion. I think that the only way we'll get through the semester is if I ask a lot of questions and they keep participating. We'll just hold hands, take a deep breath, and muddle through together.
So, today, I woke up at home. I felt sluggish most of the morning and by early afternoon, I decided to settle in with my reading-for-fun book. Three hours later, I woke up. I'm no genius, but I think this means that I was tired.
A major downside is my schedule. I start at noon, have three classes back to back to back, then I cool my heels for 3 hours. Three whole hours. Just think of all the things you can do in three hours. You could watch "Saving Private Ryan." You could cook and eat a pot roast. You could enjoy a gala charity event. In the context of my daily existence, I could drive from Big City University to my house in College Town and turn around and drive back.
Instead of doing any of these things, I cool my heels for 3 hours. This extended break is late enough in the day, not to mention at the end of three consecutive classes, that my brain doesn't work anymore. So, if you're going to suggest that I use that time to get real academic work done, save your breath. I'm good for the first 90 minutes, then I can actually feel my brain shutting down. I'm mentally closed for business around the time that all of my colleagues pack it in for the day. I can literally feel a curtain coming down in my head. The little lights in my brain go out, one by one, each one calling out, "OK, that's it for today. See you tomorrow." This is not good, particularly since I have one more group of students to entertain.
This week, I've tried two strategies to try to stop the curtain. Neither were successful. On Monday, I tried to complete administrative tasks (code for: catching up on email and other internet happenings.) I had dinner at about 6PM, thinking that the food would perk me up. Nope. Leftover beef stew just made me all warm and cozy. Curtain continued to come down. Luckily, Monday was an easy night. I reviewed the syllabus and called it a night.
Wednesday, I tried something new. I got coffee after my late afternoon class. I enjoyed a caffiene high for about 90 minutes. Then, the curtain came. Not only was I mentally and physically tired, but I was also in caffiene freefall. Crap. Again, dinner didn't have the desired effect and I struggled through the class. It took every ounce of mental energy to concentrate on what I was saying. I'm not convinced that I was coherent. Next idea: Coffee injection 30 minutes before class. If that doesn't work, I'm bringing a pillow and blanket and settling in for a long winter's nap.
One bright spot in all of this is that the Evening Edition students seem to be good students. Enough of them read the assignment so we had a good discussion. I think that the only way we'll get through the semester is if I ask a lot of questions and they keep participating. We'll just hold hands, take a deep breath, and muddle through together.
So, today, I woke up at home. I felt sluggish most of the morning and by early afternoon, I decided to settle in with my reading-for-fun book. Three hours later, I woke up. I'm no genius, but I think this means that I was tired.
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