I have an office

As far as I can tell, it is perfect. There is a card on which to write my name and my office hours and tack up by the door, so undergradlets know that they've come to the right office. There is a desk, securely cemented to the wall with cobwebs, a chair, an extension cord that reaches to a rickety power strip that is plugged into an outlet, and wireless internet access. On the various bookshelves are the remains of Tas from years past, including books, notebooks, multiple copies of Women, Fire, and Dangerous Things, grammars of Arabic, Piro-Arawakan, and Kolami, a handbook for Windows NT, elderly packets of swiss mix, and a case of wine from the Napa valley. In my desk drawers there are pens, a paper wrapper with altoids, a wrapped pair of chopsticks, colored pencils, a book entitled "The Korea Handbook," a CD with the tracks labeled in Korean, and a calendar open to April, 2006. Two doors down the hall is the classroom where almost all of my classes meet. I think I'll be very happy this semester.