It is chaotic. Though it may reveal too much (please see Fetish #1
; I'll get to my other fetishes later), I have to explain the working "conditions"--a hall in a hotel filled with light-gray dividers that wobble if you touch them and that end 6 feet from the ceiling so every sneeze, laugh and syllabus read can be heard 2 "classrooms" away and that are filled with narrow tables covered with tablecloths (you cannot learn on a tablecloth). One day, someone moved the classroom numbers. At least we have white boards though here in week 2, the dry erase markers are disappearing as if dying out while erasers multiply. I have to yell without raising my voice so I am heard, have to bend with hand cupped over ear to hear students then ferry their paraphrased comments, questions, asides, correct and incorrect answers from one side of the "room" to the other. By the end of class 3 of my 4 of the day, I feel squint-eyed, ashen, babbling and wish even more that I'd had a margarita at lunch. I'm not at "for lunch" yet.
The one copy machine broke this morning. The on-the-spot revamp of my lesson plans added what feels like 2 hours to the day.