M&Ms required

As the week goes on and I'm grinding through all this work, I find I am searching for all sorts of things that I hope will give my brains a boost. Tonight, it was peanut M&Ms (I see little use in any form of chocolate without nuts). The only real help was psychological: I could tell myself I was having a treat while I worked (read a paragraph, eat an M&M, read a paragraph, ditto, repeat until paper is graded). I have four more to do for tomorrow (papers, not M&Ms), and I'll do them in the morning. I'll still have to get up in the dark hours to do that; yesterday and today I at least had breaks between conferences (and I barely held 229 at all today; we went over one poem, I lectured a little, I let them go after about half an hour. They didn't mind). Tomorrow, once the conferences start at 10, I see students back to back, no break, until 5:30. (I didn't even think to put an X through a few appointment times so I could eat lunch....)

But oh, how wonderful it feels tonight to know that I only have four more to do. I didn't even contemplate trying to squeeze any in tonight. Despite the fact that I've decidedly hit the wall (a problem even M&Ms can't cure), the four I have left are all in that problematic range between "good, good, nice, little thing to fix, good," and "Too many problems; I'll mark nothing and just write an overall comment." The really good ones and the really bad ones are easy to grade: the ones in the middle are a hairball. Consequently, I need to come at them as fresh as possible and having let the silt clear out for a while.

And tomorrow, after I finish with students, I will go home and keel over--I hope. I need a night when I just don't think about any of what I still have to do and go into sea-cucumber mode. It's always possible I'll be manic (happened last night), but even if I am, I hope I'll be able to employ my decompression tactics and won't have to resort to hitting myself in the head with a frying pan. Cast iron.

Just as a side note, I find that if I can get myself to bed early enough to get a certain number of hours of uninterrupted sleep, I'm actually rather enjoying being up before dawn. There is something very peaceful and cozy about it, knowing all around me people are still in their slumbers, but I am one of those with a light on, quietly beginning my day before the sun begins to make its presence felt. Native people say we should always be up in time to greet the sunrise--and I'd love to make a habit of it, except I really like being up at night too....

I keep telling myself not to think too far ahead, just to focus on what's immediately in front of me. (Twelve Step programs say "Trust in God and do the dishes.") I know what I intend to do on Friday, and I have the weekend priorities in mind, but if I think about it too much, the anxiety builds. One moment at a time is enough. Also, I've started having a problem I used to have with frightening regularity years ago: I'll be walking (or even scarier, driving) somewhere and suddenly will realize I have no clue where I am or where I'm going. I could be on Pluto--or in LA--for all I know. It takes a few seconds for the world to make sense again and I recognize what is around me. I know this happens when I get too far ahead of myself--almost literally, it seems, as if my mind has left my body entirely and when it snaps back into place, it's disoriented. At least, after my previous experiences, I know that I'm not having a stroke or a brain tumor: it's just a sign that I need to be here now (in the words of the Ray Lamontagne song).

Anyway, I'm going to take a few minutes to reorganize the chaos on my desk so I know what is in which pile, and then go home and attend to life maintenance. Looking forward to being in slobby clothes and full sloth mode. Not sure my eyeballs work well enough to read, so maybe something from Netflix, crossword puzzle, and lights out.