I woke this morning with the beginnings of a sick headache. Not sick in the contemporary sense ("That game's totally sick! I want to play!") but rather the good, old-fashioned sense of "I will vomit on you without warning."

I introduce myself to my students in a little less than two hours. I suppose that, if I can do this with my head on fire and my stomach rebelling, I can do it any old time.

Maybe someone in the group will start sniffing the armpit of their sweater as happened to a friend on her first day as a TA.

It's equally possible that everything will go just fine. I've got most of the prep work already done and I'm clear on what I want to cover in class today. However, my stomach really doesn't seem aware of that. It does not care.

Michael has just reminded me of something completely unrelated to AAAGHHH! TEACHING!!!. When The Kat came home from school on her first day, she hugged me and said "It's so good to know that he'll always be there for us."

I was a little confused. "Who?"

"The crossing guard, Soup."

I choked. "You mean Stu?"

"Yes!"

So it's good to know that Soup will always be there.