Going for the World Cup in Procrastination

Well, my mouse plans have again gone agly: I marked I think three of the essays from the SF class and did not, after all, do any marking of discussion boards on Sunday. As I started to write this post, however, I thought, "Oh, for God's sake, Prof. P: do the discussion boards."

So I did that. And I did mark a few assignments in Advisement. But the enormous, teetering piles of stuff I have yet to address are growing every day--and so far, nothing much has been getting returned.

But this is what "tomorrow" is for, right? I spent most of my break (e.g., office hour) between classes talking with Paul about topics various and sundry--brushing only briefly against the amount of work I'm putting off doing--and now it's late enough that I want to get home. Which means, despite my desire to sleep endlessly, an early alarm tomorrow, so I can make a little proverbial hay before class--and hope that, despite the alarm, I have enough energy after class (and P&B) to crank through some more before collapsing for the day.

I did gain a teeny bit of time tomorrow: the Drama Queen student has yet another life crisis, so I'm encouraging her to withdraw. I actually feel a bit bad about calling her that: if she really is going through what she says she is, her life is truly hell, and I would hate to think she wasn't getting support and encouragement in a dreadful time. My communications have, in fact, been supportive--albeit somewhat chilly in the advice (no "you can do it" pep talks but "yes, it's time to quit" cold dose of reality). But I don't think she'll be showing up for her mentoring appointment--or if she does, it should only be long enough for me to sign the withdrawal form.

I grant you, that 30 minutes isn't a lot of time to put to any good use, but as long as I'll be in the office anyway, I'll try to make the best I can of it.

Now, however, I'm going home. I was saying to Paul earlier that I'm in practically complete and total "hide under the sofa" mode: I'll curl up here with the dust bunnies and hope everyone and everything just goes away and leaves me alone. If I could, I'd tender my resignation effective immediately, pack a U-Haul, and head for the (literal or metaphoric) hills. That not being a viable option for a bunch of reasons, I will at least concede defeat for today--and pull the Scarlett O'Hara number. (I wonder if Scarlett ever considered hiding under the sofa? It works for my cat...)