I hate everybody. OK, not quite everybody.

Actually, after my second class--and especially after a student e-mail I just received--I don't really hate anybody, but man I was ready to lambaste anyone who came across my sights after the first class, which followed on a tremendously annoying time in Advisement, plus an annoyance from a colleague.

In terms of the colleague, I finally got the year-end evaluation from the one "absentee," and it's useless: there's essentially nothing in it. I'll talk it over with P&B, but I'm cranky enough that my inclination is to say, in essence, "Fine, if that's what you think is adequate"--and send it to the Dean marked "unsatisfactory." I doubt P&B will go along with that (we try too hard to be nice to our faculty some times), but I won't take any action until I've consulted with them.

In terms of Advisement, as Paul said, we're down to the lunkheads and idiots in Advisement. Again, that's not entirely true. I did advise one extremely bright young woman who is a non-degree students, just trying to take classes to get into a nursing program elsewhere. But that was before I advised a student who simply would not make any decisions about anything, kept changing his mind.... I think it was actually a passive-aggressive method for trying to get me to pick his schedule for him, but I wasn't falling for it. I finally said, "You're going to have to make a decision some way, even if you just put a bunch of course descriptions up on the wall and throw a dart." He finally smiled a little at that, but the sullen recalcitrance I'd had to wade through for the preceding 15 minutes with him had soured my impression to the point that I couldn't feel any relief--until he finally walked out of my cubicle.

Then students in the first 102 were being idiots: "I didn't know I had to attach the first versions. Did we also have to attach our sources?" This after me telling them precisely that for the last three weeks solid, not to mention that it's clearly written--multiple times--on the assignment sheet. After a full semester of saying, "Times New Roman 12 point font; anything else is a penalty," I got a paper in some other font--huge, sans serif.... I told the student to get it printed out again, correctly, right away, or it would points off the top, before I even get around to evaluating anything else. "But that's how the library prints things." "But you can change it in the library." "I didn't notice..."

I was happy--I think--to see that the plagiarist was there with a paper, and from a brief glance, it seems as if he may indeed have rewritten the whole thing to make it his own. I'm not taking that for granted however: I'm going to check it.

In the second class, the students cheerfully exchanged papers to help each other find any remaining problems. One of my favorite students, a music major, was out all last week because his grandfather died (and I believe him; one can get tired of the dead grandparent excuse, but I choose to trust this young man). We talked about an incomplete for him, but as it turns out, he won't need one--unless something unexpected happens. He turned in what I will consider his second version today; I'll get it back to him on Wednesday, and he can turn in the completed final paper on Monday. Then neither one of us has to have it hanging over our heads after the semester ends. I have given one incomplete in that class as it is, and am regretting it, although again, it's because of a life crisis situation--or so I trust. I want to give the student a chance to get some kind of decent grade, but man, I hate like hell that I'm going to have to deal with a paper after the semester is over. Fucking hell.

But oh well.

The cheering e-mail was from the student who is struggling so in Native American Lit. She sent me her new introductory paragraph--and hot damn, it works. It's good. I hope she can follow through with the rest of the paper. If she can, she may even get a B on that final paper--and that would send her soaring. I'm hoping madly that she pulls it off.

And more good news: I wrote up my P&B statements for the three year-end evaluations I had that actually passed muster. Now I'm just waiting for the faculty members to print them out, attach their documents, sign them, and return them to me for counter-signature. I'm not sure what to do with the two remaining problem children, but again, I'll consult.

And now, I'm going to cancel my office hour and head home. I'm too cranky to do more today--and I should have a nice chunk of time tomorrow to start hacking through the final papers. I really cannot believe it's almost all over. I should be dancing on air, but instead, I'm anxious as hell. But this too shall pass.