I graded all the papers for the 101 students--all five of them (imagine how exhausting)--and I've crunched most of the numbers: I've done a larger-scale break-down for the students, and I'll have to do a teeny bit more math for the paper rosters (and no, I don't know why we're still doing paper rosters; this place is idiotically antiquated in any number of ways). But apart from that--and reading their self-evaluations, which should be enjoyable--that course is packaged up and tied with a ribbon. Almost literally: the plastic accordion folders I use to carry course materials in are tied closed with ribbons.
And the adjunct schedules are as finished as I can get them. There are some classes I couldn't assign, because I don't know who is qualified to teach them--and I may have made a few mistakes in what I did assign (revise that: I almost certainly made mistakes in what I did assign). But at least Bruce now can work with the preliminary pass and tweak what I've done instead of having to start from nothing.
Part of me hoped I'd get a little further along a little faster than I managed, but I think it's a pretty good Friday's worth of work. I'm going to take the risk of not bringing any papers home with me to grade. I'm trusting that between whatever time I have on Monday and Tuesday before class, I can get through the ones that want comments or at least to know the grade. The rest? Well, who knows. But I'm 99.9% certain I'll be here on Wednesday, finishing up. I "should" take some of that work home with me, I know, but I have a lot of life maintenance to do over the weekend--not to mention class prep for the 101s at least (that I can do pretty easily: all the conceptualization is there, it's just a matter of changing dates and making minor adjustments--and sending the first batch of assignments off to Printing to be photocopied).
I have reached the state of exhaustion when I teeter on the line between total collapse and hyper mania: I fully understand why over-tired toddlers are so hard to put to bed, as I am exactly the same way. Unfortunately, however, I don't have parents to make me sit in my high chair and eat the nutritious dinner they've prepared, put me into my jammies, and tuck me into bed. I have to do all that for myself. (The cats are useless at this sort of thing. They don't seem to have any sense of responsibility at all. They won't help me grade papers; they don't clean the house; they never make dinner for me but always expect me to feed them. Useless. It's truly surprising that I haven't turned them into charming little hats.)
See? That's what happens when I get overly tired: I get loopy and start blathering nonsense. This is a very good indication that it's time to step away from the keyboard and drive very carefully home. I know that tomorrow is another day--and it's nice to remember that so is Sunday, and Monday. And right now, I don't have to worry about a single one of them. I'm stick-a-fork-in-me done for tonight, and that's all that matters.
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