Alive

Fall semester: day fifty-seven
Remember, remember, the fifth of November...

Yesterday afternoon, upon coming home, I sent Daisy a message that told her I was home and safe, yet I had seen three different types of police patrolling the interstate for speeders -- the county sheriff, highway patrol, and a Newton city cop.

I want to let it be known that I like police -- I've never had a problem with any of the ones I've met or have known over the years. The Newton city cops are actually pretty cool; I've talked to many of them over the years, both when I was working for the newspaper and afterwards, and they do their job well. What I can't stand is when three different types of police patrol a 20-mile stretch of highway between Newton and Wichita, in the middle of the day when there's no real traffic, looking to give out chicken-shit speeding tickets for people going 82 in a 75.

This is a relatively new thing; in my second year of grad school (so, a year and a half ago, roughly) when I first lived alone and was driving to/from campus every day by myself, there were never cops of any sort on the interstate anywhere. Occasionally, you'd see one in the median if the interstate passed over/through a town's city limits and it was technically in a city cop's jurisdiction, but only rarely. It is 22 miles from my front door to the main campus parking lot -- my speed record for making that trip is eighteen minutes. Yes, I've timed it. I used to be able to get on the interstate, get in the left lane, and cruise at 85-90 all the way to Wichita and back at any given hour of day or night with no issue, passing everyone else. It became normal after a while. And, again, my Monte Carlo Z34 will do 80 if you look at it funny -- just because it's old, heavy, and falling apart doesn't mean it's not incredibly fast. Keep in mind that it did this before I had the spark plugs and wires replaced last fall, too.

Now, it's different. You have to drive at or below the speed limit now because if you don't, a cop will spot you and will pull you over, and they're everywhere. They've started patrolling the interstate, in that stretch between my house and campus, hardcore. They're out there before dawn, and they're out there long after dark -- frequently on my way home from teaching my night class, I'll see at least one or two of them in the median on my way home. They put the black/dark blue cars out there at night so that you can't see them until you're right up on them -- another chicken-shit move.

I've also been on the interstate at night, with no one around me, and have had cops (usually Highway Patrol, in their Chargers) tailgate me really closely to see if I'll speed up to get them off my ass. Of course, at night, all you can see are headlights, especially when they're so close to your back bumper -- within a car-length of space. This is probably illegal, of course, but it would be just as illegal to speed up over the speed limit to get them off your ass as well, which would mean they'd be able to nab you. It's sneaky, assholish, underhanded shit, and it's happened to me no less than three times in the past two year or so, in the zones where it's only 60mph on the interstate. When the speed limit goes up to 70 (it becomes 75 a few miles later), just like clockwork, they'll speed up and go around me, and I'll see that they're cops.

I told Daisy how much I miss the days of being able to drive as fast as I wanted to/from campus, and she responded with one statement: "I like you alive."

Yeah, well, being constantly paranoid and on the lookout for cops 24/7 has completely killed my love of driving. Driving is now no longer fun, but a chore. I can no longer have peace in my travels, nor can I enjoy my trip to/from campus because there's always a chicken-shit cop out there waiting to bust me if I go any faster than the posted speed limit. My car doesn't have working cruise control (it's there, but it's never worked), so I have to constantly adjust my speed. The cops patrolling the interstates do it not because of "safety" anymore -- it's about them making money. They know as well as anyone else that most new cars on the interstate, in a long straight stretch of highway, can operate perfectly safe at 100mph.

Anyway. End rant.

As today is Tuesday, it's one of my two long days of the week. It's also supposed to be raining and storming all day long, though nothing severe. I'm quite surprised, actually, that it's 7AM in November and the temperature is already/still hovering around 60 degrees -- however, it's not like I want to drive home tonight when it's really dark and pouring rain, so my fingers are crossed that it mostly finishes up by then. I just got out of a nice, hot shower, and have dressed myself for the day in a thick hoodie and a thermal shirt underneath just so I don't get soaked to the bone if it does rain terribly all day long.

The good thing about today is that I don't have a lot to take care of -- in my 101 class, we're workshopping. In my 210, I'm collecting papers and introducing the next assignment, which I created from scratch (as I mentioned over the weekend). The bad thing is that I really don't have a whole lot to work on over the course of my day between my classes, and will probably end up being pretty bored. I also won't be able to take a nap and sleep, more than likely, as I slept for thirteen hours last night (oh, thank you sleeping pills). I've charged my mp3 player and my DS to take with me today to pass the time, if necessary, but I don't know if I'll use them a lot. Usually when I make the effort to take them with me, I barely get to touch them. Today's workload is pretty light, however. Thursday's workload really won't be; I'll have grading to do most of the day for my 210 class.

I am, actually, pretty excited about teaching that class tonight, which is a sure sign that I'm at least somewhat delusional. It's because I did create their new assignment from scratch, and it's a good assignment. I was given a weekly lesson plan and it's different than what the book covers, so really I've been writing a lot of the stuff for the class and modifying a good chunk of it heavily for the 8-week version of the class anyhow.

I talked briefly to the administrators yesterday morning about teaching in the spring and when the schedules will be done by. They could feasibly be done by Christmas, but that is doubtful; more than likely it will be well after the new year before they come available. I also doubt, even though I asked if one would be available, that I'll be able to get one of the coveted lit classes this fall; they've hired three new lit professors over the course of the past eighteen months or so, and another one starts in the fall. I don't care what I teach, in all honesty -- I just want to teach at least three or four sections of something, even if they're all different classes, so that I can continue to survive with decent pay. That's what's important to me right now, really. The adjuncts/lecturers get what's left after the GTAs' sections are filled, and as we now have a large group of GTAs and at least 5-10 adjuncts/lecturers at this point, well, it may be "slim pickings" for the spring. The good news is that several of those GTAs who are teaching now will not be in the spring, as they either graduate in December or have decided not to teach so that they can finish up their degrees for May. That means more sections of whatever they teach are opening up. Parker, for example, is one of those people. He could teach in the spring, but is not so that he can focus on his thesis.

"I'll be teaching composition classes for, basically, the foreseeable future," one of my colleagues told me, "as they've hired all of these new professors. I don't know when I'll get to teach a lit course again."

Of course, a lot of us are in the same boat. But, interestingly enough, I'm seeing fewer and fewer adjunct faculty sticking around these days, or adjuncts that are teaching but one class because they're teaching for other little schools around the area. It's something to think about, at least.

Anyway, on that note, I must prepare for my day on campus, which means I'm gathering all of my materials and lugging my heavy bag with me. Fare thee well, folks.