Can she do it? (Drum-roll...)

A bag of peanut M&Ms got me through from about 5:30 until 8:15, in which time I finished about a third of what I needed to get done tonight. I foolishly didn't cancel tomorrow's appointment with the TIAA-CREF rep about my retirement; I thought about it this morning and then I thought, "Nah, I want to keep it; I'm sure I can do this." Well, not so much. So even though I hate to cancel on someone with utter lack of notice, I'm going to have to reschedule that appointment or I will never get everything done to return to students tomorrow--and I absolutely must get everything back to them before they have to do the first versions of their papers: it's the only fair way to give them every possible edge heading into that high-stakes assignment.

Even with canceling that appointment, I'll have to get in here by 9 a.m. at the latest. My brains will be crispy-fried, but I'll have to gut it out anyway. The one consolation I have is that I have a private dance lesson scheduled after work tomorrow, so I have something delightful to look forward to. And I can sleep late on Wednesday, which we have off for Yom Kippur. Unfortunately, I'm going to have a shitload of work to do on Wednesday, too: the students from the Short Story class don't have their first mini-papers back yet, and their second one is due next Wednesday. I don't see them again until Monday, but once the papers come in from the 102 classes, it will take all I've got to get those back to them on Tuesday for their next step, so I have to get the Short Story stuff marked before those 102 papers hit.

Jesus, I hope that makes sense to anyone other than me. Syntax and I have parted company at this point.

The class session with the Short Story students went well today. I had to toss two for lack of homework. A few classes ago, one of those two students had gone through a charade of "I have my log here somewhere" when in fact she didn't, so she didn't get tossed that class--I very nearly threw her out, but she said she'd read the story, and she was in a group with another young man who truly had read the story (and well) but didn't have his log, so I let them stay. This time, I wasn't having it. I was cheerful enough about it, but out she went. It wasn't easy to get her to go: she really tried not to leave, but I kept returning to hover over her--and finally said I wanted to talk to her in the hall. She got huffy about it, saying, "I'm going!" but I said, "No, I'm not hassling you about that; you said you had a hard time understanding the story; that's what I want to talk to you about." And I did, reminding her that when she's struggling with a story, that's the most important time to do a log.... She said she understands, but I'm not taking bets whether she'll be back.

The other young woman I tossed has been sporadic in her attendance anyway. She didn't seem unduly pissed off to be sent away, but again, I'm not taking bets about her return. I don't think she's a bad student, so I hope she comes back--but hard to tell when they have their noses out of joint.

I also had to have a conversation with a few students who clearly didn't bother to read my late paper policies--and with one young woman who has been plagiarizing her logs. She didn't deny having looked online for help understanding the stories, but she said, "I put it in my words." I know, I said, that's part of the problem. I told her that some of my colleagues would flunk her for the course just for what she did (true: William would), but instead, I was going to just ask her not to do it any more, to go ahead and struggle, and that I'd be delighted to get a log that is nothing but questions, as long as she is at least trying to answer her own questions. Better to struggle through it on your own than to rely on a crutch, I said; you will actually learn something if you do it yourself, even if it's harder. She was actually grateful by the end (or said she was, anyway)--mostly, I think, because I didn't flunk her and could have. We'll see how she does from here. Mostly, I feel good for having taken advantage of the "teaching opportunity." We'll see if she takes advantage of it, too.

But now it's crowding 9 p.m., and I need to get home and indulge myself with things like dinner and sleep. (Jesus, I spoil myself: dinner AND sleep? How hedonistic can a person get.) Besides, the kitties are tapping their little wrist-watches, saying to each other, "Where the hell is she? Doesn't she know it's past time to feed the cats?" So I'm going to throw this up on the blog completely raw. Any errors or infelicities, sue me.