Weird start to the week...

Whew. OK. So, stemming from a very invigorating lunch with a friend and colleague on Saturday, I decided to get proactive about gearing up my scholarly life, instead of sitting around moaning about it. I realized I need the buddy system, an obligation to others that will make me do the work that I am insufficiently self-directed to take on otherwise. In addition to floating the idea past dear friends in far places, I sent out an all faculty e-mail, asking who'd be interested in joining with me in an ecocriticism reading group--and I've gotten a surprising number of positive reactions, including one from a faculty member at Stony Brook, who may bring a Ph.D. candidate along for the ride as well, and who is talking about including folks from the City.... This could quickly become much bigger and more unwieldy than I anticipated--but then again, once we actually embark on the work, some may drop by the wayside, as it may not be what they were hoping for, too far from their disciplinary interests.

But now that I've floated the idea and gotten the responses, I actually have to organize something. Although I generally hate being in charge of stuff like this, I realize that this is a very good exercise for me: I tend to try to please everyone and get stressed out when I can't, but what I need to practice is pleasing myself (reading what I want to read, meeting the way I want to meet), and if that means the whole thing falls apart, so be it. But I suspect at least a few will be willing to come along for the ride, whatever I decide--and once we're rolling, I'm willing to consider more suggestions from the group, operate more by consensus than by fiat. But for now, fiat will do.

In any event, with all that in my mind, at 4 a.m. I woke up like I'd been poked with a cattle prod, mind (and heart) racing. I was determined to try to get back to sleep--even if only for a few minutes before the 5:30 alarm--so I refused to look at the clock again, trusting to the alarm to tell me when my efforts were in vain. I finally drifted off to sleep again, knowing I had carefully set the alarm for 5:30--but I'd forgotten to turn it on. (And yes, we can clearly see the subconscious desire being expressed by that convenient "forgetfulness.") I woke up at 7:10--and only because my little cat jumped on me. I shot out of bed--again, the cattle prod metaphor is apt--screaming "Shit! Shit!" and proceeded to run around the house trying to do my morning chores in record time--and trying to figure out when the absolute latest was that I could leave the house.

I got to campus at about 9:10 (a minor miracle demonstrating what can be done when it's necessary). That's 20 minutes before class starts, instead of the full hour or more that I usually feel I require. A little frantic flurry ensued, and I walked down the hall right at the stroke of 9:30, into the classroom--and it was completely empty. Hmmm. I went back to my office and grabbed some additional work, just to keep myself amused until anyone showed up--wondering how many of them forgot to "spring forward," despite my reminders last week. At 9:45, one student came tearing in, frantic because she was late--and she was the only student to show up at all. Weirdly, two students left their papers on my office door--I'm pretty sure while class was in progress, as I don't recall having seen the papers there before class started. Why didn't the students come to class? No clue. One student showed up after class had ended with yet another excuse about why he wasn't in class, why he didn't have his paper... oh, whatever: I have it now, but he told me he had to write it all over again, so I can't imagine it's very good. Poor Wonder Student is ill, and was sweetly apologetic about missing class--but I'm worried about his ability to keep up with the work if his health continues to be poor for much longer.

It was a potential debacle, I suppose, but the student who was there had e-mailed over the weekend, wanting guidance about how to go from B's to A's on her journal/logs, and I'd told her we'd have to meet to go over what is needed. We used the class session as a one-on-one tutorial, in essence, in which I pointed out a whole new way of thinking that will be required if she is to achieve the A's she wants. It's deeply puzzling to her that the way she's thought up to this point (and that has gotten her A's) is no longer sufficient--but she's genuinely starting to comprehend what she's missing, which is wonderful. She is one of those who is willing to work hard--and willing to work differently--and in my book, that's a crucial combination. So, hooray.

I had a nice moment in Advisement, too. One young woman came in completely bewildered about how to proceed, a million ideas but no way to pull them into anything approaching a plan for her academic progress. By the time we finished our session, she was beaming but also near tears, felt like she'd been given the keys to the kingdom. All I did was tell her where to get some information and various kinds of support the campus has to offer, and show her what it would mean if she were to go for the AA degree versus the AS--and it was as if I'd showered her with pixie dust, or turned her pumpkin into a gilded carriage. Very sweet, actually.

The 102 went well, too--for the twelve students who were there. Two of the absentees worry me: they're both potentially good students, and the fact that they weren't there and that I've not gotten anything from them via e-mail is a source of concern. I truly hope we haven't lost them; I'll be deeply disappointed if we have. But the ones who were there did a good job of digging into the work; Kayla and I kept them busy and focused on the work at hand. I will say that one student was blatantly texting (Kayla has often seen him at it; I've not): I had my back to him so didn't notice, but Kayla gave me the high sign--and I was on him like a duck on a june bug (as my aunt would have said). "This is the last time I will see that, ever. I see that again, and you are out"--all said in my most stern "I brook no shit whatsoever" tone. The students around him all had a little "chickens in the hen-house when the fox is at the door" reaction, lots of twittering and nervous shuffling. You betcha. Good. Be afraid.

But otherwise, they seemed to be working productively. I'm especially pleased with Mr. No-Longer-a-Chip, who has nothing on his shoulders now except the mantle of his responsibilities. He is fully engaged in the process and doing, for the most part, good work. Given the way he came in at the start of the semester, his earnest--and intelligent--effort is a delight.

On a very different note: I'm creeping closer to standing up in a Board of Trustees meeting and delivering a few hard truths. I started writing what I want to say--but I don't think I can pull anything together in time for the meeting on Wednesday, and I don't want to put my name on the list of people wanting to speak until I'm ready to say something that is as pointed and fierce as it needs to be. Am I taking on one too many things? Perhaps.

Speaking of taking on too many things: I've agreed to do a ten-minute presentation about a publication of mine that is currently part of a display in the library, among other faculty-authored publications. The presentation is not until late April, thank god, and is only ten minutes, thank god, but still, I have to figure out what I'm going to say. I don't have to be a scholar about it (yet again, thank god), but I do want to say something about the context in which the publication was put together; it's the longer version of the paper I presented in Portugal last summer, the full-length version that went into the book arising from the event. The English department is also doing a similar display (no presentation required for that one), so my only two copies of that book are on loan. I sure as hell hope I get 'em back....

What else... Prep for my substitute gig this Thursday? On hold until I get through the current crop of papers. Chancellor's award? Ditto--at least until I get the papers for 102 done (the other paper grading may alternate with some chipping away at the award application). Review of a reassessment of revision in our classes? Ditto (and that's due earlier, so I really should turn my attention to that first). Meeting with one of my departmental colleagues and the administrator in charge of assessment, about a new computerized method of reporting data (a huge snorting hairball)? Waiting until he and I can find a time we both can meet--and then hoping she's also available at that golden, fleeting moment. Observation of the potentially problematic adjunct? Set for Wednesday (another reason I may wait until the next BOT meeting to say my piece). Meeting with an evening student who has a complaint about a professor? Waiting to hear if he can come to my evening office hours.

I'm probably forgetting things. But here's the kicker: that's less stuff, really, than I'm usually dealing with. Isn't that insane? I'm not precisely unstressed, but I am less stressed than is often the case. And here's another "thank god" (though I'm knocking wood as I say this), there is no P&B business to tend to. Bruce even canceled last week's meeting (which I'd have missed anyway, as I was home hacking and snorting). Hope springs eternal that the same will happen a number of times the rest of this term.

For now, I'm going to do a very minimal shuffle through what's on my desk, so when I come in tomorrow I'll at least have a start on the organization and triage. After that little shuffle, I'm off home. And I'm taking no work home with me. So there.