Eight more school days.
Can't believe it?
My usual frenzy has been set into motion. I'm a mess. I'm behind with everything, yet may appear cool and collected. Except for this dastardly fiend of a cold -- my ubiquitous airplane cold. Darm. At least I do not have stacks of unread freshmen essays. Yippee. I only have one test to read by Tuesday. My planning must be working? Can't say. The usual suspects still haunt me.
I am not going to rant about students who do not listen or read the syllabus. No. This seems to be the norm. When I said (and wrote) "I do not take work via email," did they think I was kidding? I was not. When I said (and wrote) "I do not take late work," did they think that was a joke? Nope. I don't take late work. What is a deadline? Obviously, I have a very firm view of personal responsibility. I don't think we're doing any favors by lowering or moving the goalposts we've set.
Recently several people (well, Joanne and Geoff) have attempted to move me past an obsession with "approval" -- be it my mother's or anyone's. I understand. I need to approve of myself. I don't need to concern myself with whether my students "like" me or not. On the surface, I don't care. But maybe I do? I don't move the deadlines or become lenient -- nope. I don't take late work. But do I cringe inside because I don't? Do I realize this is not rocket science or the fate of the world? Somewhere deep inside I actually do KNOW that an essay for Touchstones of Western Literature is NOT going to "matter" in a hundred years -- or in twenty -- or in one. Ha. So...why not let it all go? An interesting proposition. But...no. I'll just have to ramble on as I have for years -- off to the end of the semester. And back in the fall!
At the moment, I would love to feel 100% again. No cold. No snot. No cough. Get back my appetite.
And watch the rest of Battlestar Galactica - Season 2.