Ook redux

I got up this morning fully intending to go to work and put in a relatively full day--and about half-way through my morning routine, I thought, "Why am I doing this? I don't feel any better than I did yesterday." So I called in sick, again--and have been having anxiety attacks about it all damned day. I didn't miss anything vital; in a year--hell, in six months--nothing will be any better or worse for my having stayed home. But I have an inner critic that perpetually tells me I'm falling down on the job. I know better, but that voice gets astonishingly loud sometimes.

I know there is a bunch of work waiting for me when I go in tomorrow (and I am going in tomorrow, barring a sudden turn for the worse), and I'm trying not to hyperventilate about that--but on the plus side, I did manage to force myself to finish up every speck of work that I'd brought home over the weekend. I even put in some time on my Chancellor's Award application, which is a snorting pain in the ass, but assuming I get it, it will be a lovely feather in the cap (and line on the CV, under "awards"). I also would get a big, heavy medallion to wear whenever I put on my official academic regalia, which is kinda cool.

I just got a report from Kayla about her interaction with the students yesterday. The Problem Child (he of the inappropriate group behavior) was in a huff about the fact that I canceled class. If he's at all huffy with me tomorrow about it, he'd better be prepared to have his head removed. (Hello: I am a human being and am allowed to get sick.) The usual suspects were unprepared (or absent); it's time to issue the "early" warning--which is already too late. (By the time I realize they're in trouble and get a chance to say anything, the ship has already sailed.) And not surprisingly, almost all of them are struggling with the poetry. I told Kayla that I may ditch active learning techniques tomorrow, not put them in groups, and just do a whole-class discussion, in the interest of covering a lot of territory in a hurry. (The need to gallop through a lot of material is the downside to having canceled class--and I'm not entirely sure that the whole-class technique pays off in terms of their understanding, but I feel better if I've at least touched on all the readings.)

I also got a woeful message from a student in Nature in Lit. She really wanted to see my comments before she wrote her big paper, and she suggested I scan her paper and send it to her. Smart thinking: I tend to forget I can do that. However, when she got it, she was crushed, mortified, by the C she received. I'd love to meet with her in person to talk about it, but her schedule and mine don't coincide tomorrow, so I suggested she A) e-mail me any questions or test-flights (as it were), trying on different approaches, and B) remember she can revise. That option to revise is often the one thing that keeps students hanging on in the lit classes, and I'm happpy to give them the chance to truly learn by reworking something that doesn't fly the first time. And her paper was not good, mostly merely paraphrase, with no actual argument. But I do think she's capable of learning, so I don't mind at all investing some time and energy into helping her.

Whoof, even thinking about this, writing about it, is making me tired. I'm now going to retreat to the couch and spend the rest of the evening doing my best sloth impressions. God, I hope I feel better tomorrow; it's hard as hell to do this when my energy is draining out my toes.