Today is the first day of classes over at the U.  It doesn’t mean much to me, since I’m not teaching or taking classes, and haven’t for years. (And congrats to Abby on not teaching in her fellowship year!)  I biked in for an appointment today, grumbling about the huge crowds of people walking in the bike lane just because they feel like it or, worse, trying to peer at bridge wreckage.  I have realized, however, that I am now the most advanced grad student on campus in my program (6th year, if you’re wondering), everyone else in my cohort having moved away.

Meanwhile, AFSCME clerical, technical and healthcare workers at the U are probably going on strike beginning tomorrow, in response to a pathetic contract offer from admin.  There’ll be a rally tomorrow at noon at Northrup.  To help out, visit  I was involved in strike support the last time folks had to strike.  They struck for several weeks, we occupied Morrill Hall, and folks won a better contract.  I remember it particularly well because it was right after the victory party that I had to fly back to Detroit because my mother was dying.  It must be four years ago now.

On a slightly more pleasant note, an article from the Chronicle about the yearly job shortage hoax.  Welcome back to school!