On the fly

I got here at about 9 a.m. for a 9:30 observation and haven't been able to stop or get back to the office until just now. Classes went well enough, nothing specific to report. I'm very happy with how the students in today's 102 are doing with the Le Guin novel: they're asking smart questions and seem to be getting the whole gender/alternative biology thing a lot better than usual. Of course, their reading journals may reveal a different understanding (or lack thereof), but the class discussion was great. I let them vote whether to work in groups or get into a circle and contribute individually: the vote was close, but the very slight majority voted to do the circle. It went well: lots of comments and questions flying around the room, and just about everyone asked or said something. The short story students opted to work in groups--which I love. They do it very well, and I'm delighted they see the value in working that way. Most of them contributed something to the class discussion. A few required a little prompting, but even one or two of the more shy and retiring students, when asked, had something to say. Cool beans.

I'm about to have dinner with Paul, so I'm still flying around. I do not want to come to the office tomorrow, even though I will spend the day working instead of (as I had hoped to do) lounging about the house metaphorically in bunny slippers and eating bon-bons. (I initially typed that as "in bunny slippers eating bon-bons," but--perhaps because I just observed a grammar class in which one of the topic of discussion was the possibilities for misreads--I realized that it might sound as if the slippers were the ones chomping on treats, which is an amusing image but not what I meant.)

(I can frequently gauge the extent of my exhaustion by my levels of either crabbiness or daffiness. One or the other seems to become dominant in my demeanor when I'm falling over tired. I think the daffy quotient indicates that I'm running on fumes but still manic as hell. The crankiness takes over when I'm just tired, dammit, and not running on anything any more: I'm behind the car, pushing it to the gas station.)

Anyway.

I have no earthly idea what I'm going to work on tomorrow, out of the 10 gazillion possibilities, so I'm just going to take it all home. Once I sit down at the table, in front of my beautiful and ever-so-helpful editor's desk, I'll do the triage. Probably I will have to start with clearing off some student work for the short story class, as they are about to do their second major essay and really should have their reading journals at least, if not their latest mini-papers. Other student work is going to have to get in line behind the observations I have to write up, and the promotion folders I have to evaluate (which I will do once I'm back on campus, as I can't take those home with me). Writing letters for the sabbatical applications is going to have to wait just a little bit longer--though I can't put it off too long, as the applications have to go over to the college-wide committee relatively soon. After missing the observation last week, I have started writing things in big red Sharpie on the wall calendar in my office, so I won't miss them (I sometimes forget to look at the calendar in my bag). I'm not fond enough of electronics to set a phone or computer or whatever to buzz or beep or deliver a swift kick when I need to remember something. Yes, I'm a troglodyte. I still rely on pen and paper. And I realize I need to put the date for submission of sabbatical applications in red on that calendar--probably with arrows and asterisks and various other flags and attention getters.

Bleagh. Yuck. Enough. I'm going to shuffle a few more papers around, shove a few more things in a bag, and go eat seafood with my buddy. Oh, and have a big drink. Ahhhhhhh.