January 25, 2012
Today was the first day of classes for the new semester. The first day of each class is always more exciting than the others. You get a syllabus, get a feel for your professor, the material, the other students, and are almost never expected to be responsible for anything because its the first day. So I was excited for today except that nothing was new. I went to my French class, which is the 202 continuation of 201, in the same room, at the same time, with the same professor, using the same book, with most of the same students. We shared what we did over winter break like we would share what we did any other weekend or break and then started talking about immigrants in chapter seven just like we would any other day. Despite the small comfort of already knowing exactly how the class was going to be structured, it was still a little depressing. It was as if the past six weeks were only a weekend.