I very nearly didn't do that little bit of grading to leave on the office door tomorrow. I told myself the students probably won't pick it up anyway (which is true), so I could risk having time to do it in Advisement tomorrow--but finally I made myself do it anyway. It didn't take too long, and it wasn't painful. In fact, part of it was very sweet: reading the end-of-semester self-evaluations from the students in the SF class touched me. It is manna to the soul to feel appreciated and understood as a professor. I'm trying to soak their words in as deeply as I can; if I can garner enough of this positive feeling, I can keep teaching longer, not feel so driven to retire. I know classes like that one are precious few, however, so I'm storing up a little fuel to get me through a lot of challenging times ahead, I know. But still: it's lovely. I may even copy some of the self-evaluations to keep, so I can pull them out when I feel despair about my effectiveness or why I do what I do.
Interesting to note that, although the semester has not ended yet--I still have the bulk of the grading to do, plus more scheduling stuff with Cathy, plus commencement--I'm already feeling the tug of the end-of-semester post-partum blues. I get them even when it's been a crap semester--classes of recalcitrant students and lessons that never seem to gel--so even more so when I've had at least one class that I truly loved and that worked on just about every level. Case in point: I could go out for a walk (despite the grey, grungy, chilly weather) but ... nah. I'm going to noodle around on the computer for a while, then have an early dinner and watch something mindless on DVD. (Yes, I still do movies on DVD. I am not a dinosaur, but woolly mammoth, perhaps.)
And that's enough for today. Over and out.
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