But seriously: you find yourself, in the dungeon/library basement/Learning Commons, twirling your redundant pencil, refreshing the calendar in Canvas, where students sign up for their appointments. You occasionally venture into the larger area to tentatively call a strange student's name, in case you have somehow missed him/her. But no: there is no Jeremiah present, although he has signed up to occupy your time during this twenty minutes. This twenty minutes wherein he is not present. No Jeremiah, no sign of him at all. Back to pencil twirling.
I did not fight anyone, except mentally.
I did not buy new shoes, although I did put some shoes in a virtual shopping basket.
I did not lay down and cry, though the day is not yet done.
I did not take a nap, and I did not run away far far from home. In fact, instead, I ate a salad, graded, consulted with the students who did show up (and I thanked them for showing up, because I felt grateful). I met with the Publication Center team and we made plans, big plans, and I took notes. I made a flyer. I had maybe one too many conversations in the hall, and I scurried to the gym where I executed my new plan to strengthen my shoulders by starting small with low low weights. Chatted with my Louisiana daughter. I listened to Sufjan Stevens.
And then I came home, and we ate leftover spaghetti and leftover green beans. Plus toast. And supplementary toast. Then I hightailed it into my study, where consulted with one two three four five six students, all of whom showed up to the chatroom, the very exemplars of promptitude. And took Bruiser for a walk and watched an old episode of Modern Family ('I was born a clown! if you squeeze me, do I not honk?').
Tomorrow promises to be even beastlier than today. Tomorrow may be the day I both buy shoes and cry, or fight someone, so I'm warning you. Watch out.
That you did not buy the shoes, but merely put them in your online shopping basket speaks very highly of your character. xxooReplyDelete