Dragging my feet

Today is the first day back to school. I want to stay home with my biting psycho dog. Although she is a fear biter, so are many of my students, and she only weighs 11 pounds. I have to be in class in two hours. If you had told me back when I was a lass, that the instructors were just as nervous (and reticent) as the students on the first day of school, I would have thought you were smoking your socks. But no, all of us - even the tenured professors, I think - are so very, very nervous. The first day of class sets the tone for the rest of the semester, as much as I hate to admit it. If they think I'm a complete idiot on the first day of class, then all is lost for the next 15 weeks. I had a nightmare two nights ago that I had a classroom full of students (50+) and they wouldn't stop talking. I was standing in the front of the classroom shrieking, "Be quiet! Stop talking! Stop it, stop it, stop!" and they acted like I wasn't even there. This is extreme - I mean, I do teach at the college level. I've not (yet) had to scream at students to tell them to stop talking. Clearly my subconscious is beyond anxious. Well, I'm going to put on my favorite Ann Taylor black Merino wool turtleneck sweater, try not to poke my eye out with my purple eyeliner, head off to campus and hope for the best.