Farewell, Professorial Dignity

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Ugh.  It's been a bruising week.  (My workweek really runs from Saturday to Wednesday, rather unconventionally.)

In Monday, I began my day by striding confidently into work, stepping (in snow boots) into a wet, icy puddle in the front hall, sliding dramatically, flinging my weight to the side in an effort to regain balance, forgetting that I am carrying 30 lbs of books on that side, and taking a huge, banana-peel, silent-movie pratfall.

Hot tea in hand goes flying into the air and down on my face as I stare at the ceiling from the cold, wet floor.  Next thing I know I am surrounded by students from my first-year class: "Oh my god - are you alright?".

Farewell, professorial dignity.

I don't know which was more bruised, my hip or my pride.  (Wait: it's my hip.  Several days on, it and my knee sport fist-sized matching purple-and-gold welts.) The first thing I did after picking myself up, however, was to check to see that I was actually wearing pants.  It could have been, after all, a teacher's nightmare.  Alas, I was wearing pants, and was totally awake.

How many stories have you read today that end with that sentence?