Surely I'm forgetting something crucial...

I don't seem to have a lot hanging, threateningly, over my head this evening, which leads me to believe I'm forgetting something important. I actually had, until I wrote that sentence, forgotten I have to do a write-up of the observation I conducted last week, but I mean, I feel like I'm forgetting something more important than that. Well, either it won't matter that I forgot it or I'll have an "oh shit" moment.

Today, on the way in to P&B, I was chatting with a colleague who casually mentioned her love of Le Guin's writing--including Left Hand--so I asked her if she'd be willing to sub for me. She said she'd think about it, but I actually had already developed little ballot slips for the students, so they could vote on either changing the schedule (knowing it will make for a relatively intense weekend coming up) or keep the schedule as is, knowing they'd either have a sub next week--or we'd just be discussing a lot of the book when I'm back. I did warn them that they needed to carefully consider what they'll be facing over the weekend and not just to consider this carte blanche to slack off--but only one person voted to keep the schedule as is; everyone else wanted to change it. So, I won't need my colleague to sub for me--but we're starting with Left Hand for next class, and I had to do the world's fastest set-up of the book, which I know what completely inadequate. But we'll get things rolling better in class on Thursday, and I feel better knowing that I'll be able to talk with them about the whole book.

My meetings with students today were a study in contrast. I met with one of the students from the SF class--another very bright, astute young man (though, again, not doing the world's best job with the written components of the class and, I think, bullshitting a lot of his responses to what happens in the books, which I don't think he's reading--or at least not with the schedule I've assigned). He mostly wanted to talk about revising essay 1, and setting up his argument for essay 2--but we ended up talking some about the forthcoming reading, and he seems curious about it.

Then a student from the 101 showed up for his conference. Next to the urban slang dictionary entry for DGAF (doesn't give a fuck) is his picture, I'm sure of it. He talked a little about needing to reorganize his ideas, but mostly he was talking about the essay format. I kept trying to get him to acknowledge--and be concerned about--the fact that he plagiarized. I finally said, "What about the plagiarism? What happened there?" His response, "Oh, that was kind of a formatting thing."

Paul exploded, called the kid on the absolute bullshit of that as an answer. I was delighted: the kid can't see it just as me being the bitch, since Paul chimed in; what the student said truly was preposterous. I said, "You took stuff from the web and used it, word for word in your essay. That's not formatting; formatting is just how it looks on the page. Why did you do that?" "I needed the ideas." "What did I say about using sources from the web?" [shrug] "I TOLD YOU NOT TO USE THEM." Oh.

God, just trying to duplicate the conversation makes me so ... tired. Not angry: tired. If this were a different kind of school and I were a different kind of professor, I'd have gone downstairs, gotten a withdrawal form, told the kid to process it--and told him he has absolutely no fucking business being in college until he actually gives some kind of a shit about learning while he's here. Clearly he doesn't; it's just something his parents are making him do, a chore he wants to cross off the list just by showing up and sort of waving vaguely in the direction of doing any work. Get out of my space; you're using oxygen that could better go to other purposes.

And he's one of the students who actually submitted something.

Give me strength.

The SF class wasn't as fun today as it usually is, either; I think most of them hadn't finished the book. But whatever. We're limping toward the finish line at this point, all of us staggering with fatigue. We'll get there somehow.

As for now, I believe I have everything packed up in my tote bag to lug to Advisement with me tomorrow, and at some point I'll winnow through the creeping chaos on my desk (I get it sort of sorted out and then ... well, creeping chaos). As is usual, I feel the lack of sleep from two nights ago more acutely now than I did yesterday, so, my evening office hour having officially ended seven minutes ago, I'm going to wend my way homeward, and wait for that other day that is sure to arrive.