falling over tired

OK: even though my body is getting somewhat adjusted to waking up predawn, a mere 15 minutes earlier than my usual time on Mondays and Wednesdays is apparently more than it can readily accommodate. I've felt pole-axed all day, and I literally can't see very well, eyes are too tired to focus sharply, so I've accomplished approximately zip--and I didn't get through as much as I'd hoped to yesterday, either. Consequently, I'm a lot further behind the curve than I'd anticipated. And yet, early as it is, I do not have it in me to evaluate even one paper for the 102 class. I got through all the stories for the Fiction students (barely) and managed to squeeze out one evaluation for 102 before I had to go to class--but I'm done. Stick a fork in me, done.

So, here's that calculated risk again: I'm going to believe--trust, hope, pray--that I can arrive at the office tomorrow morning before 10 (even if that means 9:59:59) and, through diligence and efficiency, get all the rest of the papers read and evaluated before 2:30. The nice thing is that I don't have a meeting, so I don't have to scant some other obligation in order to focus on the papers. I'm still here in the office now, in fact, instead of on my way home, because one student's revision is, as yet, AWOL: this is the submission by the young woman who missed the first paper entirely. I will be deeply disappointed if she doesn't come through, as if she doesn't, she will have to choose either withdrawal or failure, neither of which is an option that makes me happy (never mind how she'll feel about that choice). But I'm having serious doubts. She was in the unenviable position of having to write the paper without the benefit of having been through the process on the first one--and even the students who did have that benefit struggled wildly this time--so she had a lot of ground to try to cover in a mighty big hurry, and I'll certainly understand if it's just too much. But I'll be disappointed nonetheless.

And, of course, whether I receive her paper or not shifts the count of how many I have to get through, and that factors into how long I have to budget: that equation of X minutes per paper times Y number of papers equals Z hours of grading time--plus a margin of error to account for the papers that take longer than the allotted X minutes. I'm assuming I'll need somewhere in the vicinity of 3 1/2 hours to get through them all, if the first one I graded is a reliable measure of X. I reckon I'll have a better sense of the math tomorrow. I grant you, one paper won't make a huge difference--but sometimes that one last paper is the one that causes panic and wild flurry.

I also know that, one way or another, I'll get them all done--even if a few get relatively skimpy written commentary. I tend to provide more than the students can address anyway, so I tell myself it won't be disastrous if that happens.

If the heavens open and God smiles, I may even have time to whip through the reading notes from the Mystery class--and head into tomorrow's classes clean, as it were. I'll be collecting more work of course, but enh. I should be able to plow through that work easily before Tuesday's classes--good lord willin' and the crick don't rise.

Shifting gears to today's class: as I predicted, we didn't get all the stories workshopped, so I asked the two students whose stories we didn't cover if they'd like the workshop process, even knowing it means they'll have a lot less time to revise than the rest of the students. They both said yes, so we'll finish their stories on Monday, then turn our attention to writing exercises (though which I'll select is as yet an open question--and I haven't been on a raiding expedition through the Gotham book yet). Two of the students' stories are so lovely, I almost hated to critique them: there is certainly room for improvement in both, but each has a beautiful voice--delicate, subtle, lyrical, in very different ways--and I don't want the students to mess that up as they revise. I'm hoping wildly that their revisions can be as delicate and subtle as the original submissions are.

As a side note about Fiction Writing, the best students are talking to each other outside of class, which I love. Edison Adams told the Real Writer today that he hadn't written much in the way of critique because he wanted to sit down and talk about it. The Real Writer mentioned to a young woman in the class--the author of the other soap-bubble lovely story--that he'd already given her most of his critique. When I left class, five students--those three plus the Slam Poet and the president of the Creative Writing club--were gathered outside the building, talking. I absolutely adore it when when students who didn't know each other become friends after meeting in my class. Some of those friendships have been lasting, but even when it's simply a matter of cordial relations around a shared experience, I find it lovely. And gratifying. I may flatter myself, but I believe those friendships are possible because of the classroom atmosphere I foster.

One friendship between my students this semester has nothing to do with me: I found out today that the young woman writer is dear friends with the depressed student from the Mystery class. That's happened before: friends coincidentally end up in different classes of mine--and sometimes swap horror stories (happened last semester, I believe, if I remember the time frames correctly; as I've said, the terms blur together). I still like it, as they act as a support network for each other.

And now, as I begin to conclude this post, I have only ten more minutes before pumpkin time. Perfect. I'll post, check e-mail one more time, pack my little bags, and stagger off into the dusk. Here's to renewed energy, focus--and vision--tomorrow morning.