Better than an Apple on my Desk

Today I picked up the books for a reading class I'll be teaching this fall so we can stash more money to pay for the wedding, and there were some papers in my mailbox along with the books. Just now, while Eric ran to Blockbuster to pick up the next disc of Lost so we can stop scratching at our necks and having seizures and hallucinating dead babies on the ceiling, I casually looked through the stuff. The last thing I opened was a large envelope marked "Confidential," but with no other clues to its contents. The papers inside weren't clearly labeled either, so it took me a few seconds to realize that what I was looking at were the results of the student course evaluations they never mailed to me after the last class I taught at that school. After seven months, I wasn't expecting to ever see them. But I'm so glad I did.

Except for one or two outliers, they loved me, man. And reading their written comments made me remember that I liked them, too. I hadn't been sure how I felt about teaching again, but now I'm pretty sure I feel confident and even a little excited.