Yesterday I met Dad at the U of W to finish delivering catalogues and make a few sales calls. While I was waiting for him I decided to get a coffee at Riddell Hall. In the spirit of the ‘good ol’ days’, I decided, after waiting for someone to ring in my coffee at the tills, not to pay for it. Rach and I used to take a drink or coffee now and then in an attempt to ’stick it’ to the University for charging us for plastic forks and making us buy coursepacks. Not the most logical approach to protest, but an approach nontheless.
After making my getaway with my free coffee, I sat on the first floor waiting for Dad. The first whiff of my Caramel Biscotti brew induced in me a whole slew of emotions – particularly the looming sense of anxiety that comes with late-night studying for some god-awful Biology exam in a class that I have hardly made an appearance in. Needless to say, the coffee didn’t make me feel all that great.
The upside of being at the U of W yesterday, however, was that on visiting the Centre for Academic Writing, it became pretty clear that as soon as I finish my thesis, I can count on getting a job teaching a section of Academic Writing. Wouldn’t that be fun? Or terrifying. But it might pay pretty well, and it would be cool to teach. Although I think of all courses, Academic Writing is the one with the fewest number of students who actually want to be there. I was pretty much the only keener in that class when I took it, given that it is a requirement for students who get shitty marks in grade 12 English. At any rate, I’m basically a professor now.
