Term starts

I don't recall ever having had this experience before ... of wanting to jump up and down with excitement on first seeing the titles on a reading list.  There may have been occasions when I've wanted to jump up and down with excitement whilst actually reading those books (as my long-suffering friends and housemates will attest), but no, on reflection, I don't think it's ever happened before I've even opened them.

Actually getting into the class is even more exciting.  There is a 'shopping' period for the first fortnight, at the end of which you register formally for classes.  Whilst this is good on one level (you can try things out before you commit to them), it does prolong the bewilderment of such a dazzling array of courses for a further fortnight.  For someone as indecisive as I am, this is not helpful.  There is simply too much choice, which is made even more agonizing by the complication of there being at least three classes you want to go to, all meeting at the same time.  And then you discover (for example) that:

1) the class you decided to go to is actually full; 

2) because you missed your second choice you're now behind with the reading; and 

3) the Div school bookstore has sold out of the textbooks for that class.  

Added to which, there is the pressure (internal, I think) on myself and my Westcott colleagues, that since we are only here for one semester, we need to make the most of our time here.  But it's hard to work out what 'making the most of our time' means, when you are faced with so many interesting things to do.

This week has involved, at least for Rebekah and myself, a certain amount of stress as we try to work out what we want to do and how to make that work (Dawn seems to have sailed through relatively stress-free, and since Paul is here as a 'spouse' rather than a 'student', he seems to be enjoying whichever classes he decides to go to).  I've had a couple of days of feeling overwhelmed, but my conversations with other incoming students indicate that I am not alone in this respect!  

But now it's nearly sorted, things are settling down.  Or, rather, revving up.  This week I had my first preaching class, which was the reason I wanted to come to Yale in the first place.  Working in a beautiful library made me remember that I do enjoy studying after all (quite a relief!).  And to sit in an Old Testament class and be allowed (even encouraged) to study the poetry and contemporary application of a text, is an experience hitherto unknown in my studies in Cambridge.  (Except for my supervisions with Andrew at Westcott, but even he had to warn me that it wouldn't help me pass my exams.)  And so, as I consider heading out to a graduates' pizza party (the provision of food doesn't seem to have abated), I'm still jumping up and down with excitement.

Perhaps I need to calm down.