As long time readers know, I used to teach college writing. Then I quit to be home with small children and write poetry. When David started kindergarten, I did not go back to teaching; I started my own tutoring business to have more time to be home with medium sized children and to write poetry.

Then a few months ago a class fell into my lap. I went into conniption fits trying to decide whether to take it. Sleepless nights, stomach aches, long pro con lists, and finally, John and I decided, why not?

Perhaps why not because what followed was another two months of intense work and conniption fits. I set up six hours of meetings with professors currently teaching the class to pick their brains. I dug through the stacks of cardboard boxes in the basement--the ones labeled work. I realized it had been ten years since I had actually designed and taught an entire class and some of the files I tried to resurrect were so old that my computer refused to open them. More stomach aches and a week of head-aches. I am not a tidy organized person, so I am grateful to myself ten years ago for the materials I was able to find.

And now, I have the syllabus done, the course packet done, the homework schedule done (and it's a doozy!), and I just have to get my security code, photocopy the syllabus, figure out where to park. . .and calm down just a tad.