![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
animeartistjoI attended the first day of my last new class this quarter and the professor killed all the joy I was anticipating from the topic: poetry. Rather elderly with the lecture hall's microphone hanging from his neck connecting him to the speakers like some obscure human leash, Professor W made quite a bizarre sight. I will have class with him twice a week for 80 minutes at a time and I do not know how I will stand it.
His voice, people. It's as equally annoying and hard to listen to as nails raked down a chalkboard. He adds an almost stuttering "ah" to about ever four words and has a whiny sort of quavering rhythm--like a drone but even more difficult due to either an accent or age. Thank God that my grade will be based wholly on papers, the final, and my section grade with a T.A.
I have a feeling I'll be ranting more about him throughout this quarter.
His voice, people. It's as equally annoying and hard to listen to as nails raked down a chalkboard. He adds an almost stuttering "ah" to about ever four words and has a whiny sort of quavering rhythm--like a drone but even more difficult due to either an accent or age. Thank God that my grade will be based wholly on papers, the final, and my section grade with a T.A.
I have a feeling I'll be ranting more about him throughout this quarter.
