And the book comes to a close

All the paperwork is submitted--and the 5:00 chimes just rang. I don't have to come back tomorrow to finish anything up or to turn anything in. And honestly, if any students email with complaints, I'm just going to ignore them. In fact, I just set up an automated reply that says, in essence, "I'm retired. Don't bug me."

The Mom got an A. Snotty Daughter got a B (which was a bit of a gift, actually). Scattered Woman got a C+. The Drifty Intellectual got a B.

There are a couple of grades that are higher than the student really deserved--and one I could have rounded up and chose not to. But mostly, I feel like the grades are pretty accurate. I wonder if the teacher I was in 2001 would look at the student work and feel the same way, or whether, over time, my standards did gradually sink. Probably.

On a completely different front, I just realized I meant to take the plants down to the main office so someone could water them over the break and I didn't. I think I'll just water the hell out of them tonight and hope they survive three weeks--since I do have to come back in January to deal with those incompletes.

And speaking of incompletes: I realized yesterday that I had offered one to a student in the 102 and then completely forgot about it. I just gave her the gift of a grade on the first version of her second essay, which she didn't actually submit. She muscled through a very difficult personal situation--and she truly deserved the A she got. (More than the Mom did, actually, though her A was mostly because she did every single homework assignment and got top marks on all of them--which bought her extra credit.)

As I was in here grading--and while the party was going on (which I very Scroogily stayed away from), a number of my colleagues came to wish me bon voyage--one even bearing a gift. Cathy told me that many more were asking where I was. Her official reason for my not being there was that I was feeling shy, which was a gracious excuse--a lot better than the real reason, which is, as I've said, I fucking hate those parties.

But it's over. There is clean up yet to do--which will take the spring, I imagine--so I don't really feel like it's over. I have no idea when it will actually sink in that I have, in fact, left this behind and am moving on to something else. Maybe not until I'm actually out west permanently. Who knows.

Nevertheless, the blog is not yet defunct--or I don't think it is, at any rate. I do intend to post when I'm in the Writing Center come January. But--unless something very unexpected happens--this is my last post for 2018.

And I wish you all bon chance.