I have every single piece of paper I've received from students in the short story class marked and ready to return to them tomorrow. Apart from a few straggling reading journals I may get from them, I won't be getting anything else from them until next week. That, my friends, is a piece of heaven. I'm about to go off to the last of my 101 classes; they're doing peer review of papers, so I can sit there and get caught up on 101 homework, so I can turn my attention to paper grading soon soon soon with nothing tangling around under my feet. Which will be even more blissful. I'll still be grinding away at papers over the weekend, but it will be terrific if I can get to next Wednesday with only new homework and reading journals to mark, no left-overs.
I was celebrating yesterday that Mr. Macho didn't show up for class with a paper (and I can hope I've seen the last of him). However, today Mr. Contempt did show up for class. The assignment was for a four to five page paper: he had one page, no works cited page, no attached sources, nothing. I'll check through the pile of homework for his class today, so I've got the complete ammunition I need, but I'm pretty sure that on Thursday I will get to pull him out of class before we start and let him know he has two options: withdraw or fail. He has not submitted sufficient work, of sufficient quality, to pass. I'm braced for resistance, but I'll stick to my guns. Withdraw or fail--and either way, don't come to class any more. I should give the bad news to a few other students as well, but it will be sheer joy to get rid of him once and for all.
Toddling off now, breathing good sighs of relief.