Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Open letter to my Canvas course.

Dear my Canvas course,

I have published you. Let's be clear about that. So you're on the books. You're legit. You're actually happening. Regardless of how I feel about the first day, orientations, projected schedules, updating due dates, and all that these imply.

Metaphor: it's like being at the top of a precipice, with a sled in tow. A rickety, haven't-used-it-in-a-while sled. Needs a little WD-40 sled. And I'm looking at my sled, then looking at the slope--whence I will very soon be sledding down--and I think, what the hell. And then I get on and shove off.

Wheeeeeeeeee! And whatnot.

Am I still jet lagged? Why do you ask?

I'm pretty sure we're going to have fun, my Canvas course, but right now, I am holding on for dear life and starting the hurtle down the mountain, and I still really really need some more sleep.

Just keep it together, will you? I'm not sure if I'm talking to myself or to you, my Canvas course, and right now I'm not sure if I can tell the difference.

filled with undecidability,


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