My New Office

I started my pre-semester workshops yesterday at UNH. I was hoping to take some pictures of what I'm up against, but my camera just beeps and flips me off when I try to use it. It's still mad that I dropped it in the sand.

Teaching at UNH is truly an old-school experience. My office is at the top of a narrow, four-story staircase, and conveniently located next to a drinking fountain that broke late in the Carter administration. We're not supplied with computers like at BSU. In fact, we don't even get phones. My office, which I share with a nice young man who arrived from Kenya 3 days ago, has two wooden desks, two wooden chairs, two wooden book cases, and 48-layers of peeling paint, the most recent of which I call "psychedelic puke train." It's a shade of neon green that can only be achieved through high levels of lead.

When I inquired about whether or not we would be getting modern conveniences, I was told that if I stand on my desk and lean toward the window, I can get half a bar on my cell phone. There's also Wi-Fi in the building, but it doesn't work beyond the second floor.

My office partner reassured me that this was good: no distractions while we study our books. He then excused himself to the bathroom. I haven't seen him since.