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BACK IN THE CLASSROOM
Analyzing the complex neurological causes of human behavior is never something I thought I'd be doing at 8 a.m. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday.
My first psychology class of the summer semester commenced bright and early this morning, taught by academic skills center director Chris Pfautz, a left-leaning fellow who is nevertheless a competent and intelligent instructor. As an icebreaker, he passed out "Who Are You?" sheets containing nine squares in which students are supposed to write an interesting factoid about their classmates. It definitely beats taking notes.
The class will meet for four hour-long sessions each week. I'm looking forward to the intellectual debates and arguments that will undoubtedly follow, because we all know what happens when you put a Christian communications major who calls himself the Voice of Reason in a room with a couple dozen liberal humanists and a kindred soul or two.
Poor Mr. Pfautz doesn't stand a chance.
In other news, my car is still awaiting a sorely-needed door transplant. I'm not exactly sure what driving around in a dented vehicle with no side-view mirror is a metaphor for, but after another week's worth of classes, I'm sure I'll be able to figure it out.
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