10 down, 10 zillion to go

I'm taking a brain break from reading journals. I managed to get the journals back to my T/Th classes today (not the review sheets from their style guide--and of course I got another batch of journals today), but now I'm grinding through the journals for 229, and haven't yet embarked on the two sets I have from the M/W 101. I've got each batch of assignments clipped together and in a stack in priority order, and periodically I take a break from marking to do something brainless, like put a batch into alphabetical order (or, um, blog): I can only read/respond for so long before A) I start to get fiercely crabby and have to work very hard not to make snotty comments or B) my brains seize up and I can't take in what I'm reading, never mind formulate a response. I really do have to get at least most of 229 done tonight or I won't be able to get even one batch of the M/W journals back tomorrow--and they've already been waiting longer than I wanted. (insert your favorite sound effect denoting exhaustion, frustration, and/or determination to continue the slog)

Today the R section of 101 (the one that meets at the end of my day) was a blast. They sort of wigged out about the marks on their reading journals (which weren't as high as they wanted, of course: they don't know yet what I consider good work), but once I got them to put that aside and work on pulling stuff out of the journals they did for today, they did a terrific job. I had one of those lovely moments when I stood there and simply watched them in their groups, all engaged in the material, looking in their books to find quotations, pointing things out in their reading journals, talking over ideas: the sight and sound of students learning. I hated to interrupt them for the whole class part of the discussion (and I told them that I hated to interrupt the great work they were doing, how pleased I was). They just flew after that, disagreeing (or agreeing) with each other, adding ideas, practically leaping out of their seats with the vigor with which they raised their hands--even trying to remember to call each other by name. I got contributions from students who have never spoken up in class before. Man, if every class were like that, I'd be in hog heaven. If their writing matched their work in class, I'd be in some even more wonderful heaven: horse heaven? I'd be ecstatic. It won't be that wonderful, not even close, and they will be crushed at first to realize that what they thought was good writing just plain isn't. But I don't want to go into a downer about that now. Class was GREAT.

Now if only I could ask the cats to mark the rest of these journals for me. (My buddy Jane suggested I rubber-band pens to their paws--and noted what a soothing experience that would be for the cats.) I'm going to have to consider whether I'm better off trying to shove through a few more journals before I go home or if I'll do better to go home, eat something, and then get back to it. Really tough call: once I'm home, it's extraordinarily difficult to get myself working again. But the fact that I'm blogging instead of marking does seem to indicate that I have hit some sort of wall here. I'll sit very quietly for five minutes and then decide. Om. Om. Om.