So grades are done with the exception of two potatoes who haven't gotten around to turning in their final papers. So I await their final papers, sending them nagging emails reminding them that they'll flunk if the papers don't get turned in. Not my fault - department policy. I'd rather they just get them in so I don't have to deal with them anymore. I just want this done and off my back.
Having everything else done and calculated and ready to enter means that I can shower and go buy myself some nail polish, which was the treat I promised myself for getting through the remains of the grading.
Once the grades are in, it's done. Like really, truly done done. And I can find a job doing something else and hope that one day over the next couple of years my motivation to finish the dissertation returns in full enough force that I finish the stupid thing.
I'm still not sad it's over, so I'm assuming at this point that I'm really not going to be. Honestly, though, it's hard to feel much of anything. I have NO idea at this point what's going to happen in my life over the next few months, no idea of what to expect, no real way to make plans. Brownie had an interview with a college in BFE of this state and they called his references, who reported that and sounded as though college in BFE is really interested in him. We haven't been to the town at all, so we're trying to keep an open mind, but the truth is that neither one of us is even slightly excited by this prospect. The idea of packing up and moving back to KC instead sounds so much better, so much more likely to bring employment for both of us, but it doesn't sound definite enough for me to want to hope for it. Not knowing what to think or what to hope for or what not to hope for so that I don't end up disappointed again has become an exercise in teeth-grinding.
I guess what I do for the moment is go shower (finally, at 2:30), drag myself out to the bookstore to look at books on writing resume cover letters for a while, pick up my nail polish, grab stuff to make salmon/asparagus pasta for dinner, and then flop with a book or with my laptop and novel for a while. Something to distract me from me.
Showing posts with label teaching. Show all posts
Showing posts with label teaching. Show all posts
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
A semi-farewell to teaching
I've been an antisocial flake the last few days. It may have been the overkill from super-social Friday night out with the department followed by the Saturday of chili fest/Ben Folds concert/getting drunk with Brownie and department close friend followed by the Sunday hangover nursing and then dinner at the inlaws.
Whatever it is, by the time I woke up hungover Sunday morning, I was pretty convinced I didn't want to see anyone other than my cats for the next week. This is, of course, impossible, so I got up this morning after a scant 4 hours of sleep (including an hour of semi-consciously smacking the sleep alarm, resulting in my arrival on campus about ten minutes late). Then I got to tutor more sessions than I've had this semester, all of which were people who were having problems brainstorming, and then I got to go babysit my class while they did peer evals for their final papers, which itself turned into tutoring-like sessions with my own students who also seemed incapable of brainstorming on their own.
I completely understand that people get writer's block and get stuck on what it is they're trying to say. I wish that had been what my students/tutoring sessions wanted. But they didn't want to be unstuck. They didn't want to take the time to come up with their own ideas at all. The worst was a reflection paper on a group project. The girl came in and sat down with an assignment that asked her to write five pages about what her group did. She had one page written and "nothing else to say." She expected me to tell her what to write. I'm not exaggerating, sadly: the words "I don't know what to write now so what do you think I should write" actually came out of her mouth. So I sat, staring at her assignment sheet, asking her what they did for the group project, trying to come up with any question I could to give her something to think about. But she didn't want my questions. She wanted me to tell her exactly what she should put in each paragraph.
I am not going to miss this.
I do wonder if it will feel weird next fall when classes start and I'm not walking into one, gradebook and lesson plans in hand. I can sit here and think about that, that I will never do this again, never teach again. I feel like I should feel sad or strange or something about it. Perhaps even relief. At the moment, however, I feel nothing about it. A blank. Is it because I still have to tutor that this hasn't hit yet? Will it hit?
Whatever it is, by the time I woke up hungover Sunday morning, I was pretty convinced I didn't want to see anyone other than my cats for the next week. This is, of course, impossible, so I got up this morning after a scant 4 hours of sleep (including an hour of semi-consciously smacking the sleep alarm, resulting in my arrival on campus about ten minutes late). Then I got to tutor more sessions than I've had this semester, all of which were people who were having problems brainstorming, and then I got to go babysit my class while they did peer evals for their final papers, which itself turned into tutoring-like sessions with my own students who also seemed incapable of brainstorming on their own.
I completely understand that people get writer's block and get stuck on what it is they're trying to say. I wish that had been what my students/tutoring sessions wanted. But they didn't want to be unstuck. They didn't want to take the time to come up with their own ideas at all. The worst was a reflection paper on a group project. The girl came in and sat down with an assignment that asked her to write five pages about what her group did. She had one page written and "nothing else to say." She expected me to tell her what to write. I'm not exaggerating, sadly: the words "I don't know what to write now so what do you think I should write" actually came out of her mouth. So I sat, staring at her assignment sheet, asking her what they did for the group project, trying to come up with any question I could to give her something to think about. But she didn't want my questions. She wanted me to tell her exactly what she should put in each paragraph.
I am not going to miss this.
I do wonder if it will feel weird next fall when classes start and I'm not walking into one, gradebook and lesson plans in hand. I can sit here and think about that, that I will never do this again, never teach again. I feel like I should feel sad or strange or something about it. Perhaps even relief. At the moment, however, I feel nothing about it. A blank. Is it because I still have to tutor that this hasn't hit yet? Will it hit?
Friday, February 26, 2010
Snowpocalypse 3: This is Getting OLD
It's snowing again. We're at 8 inches and counting. And dumping. And dumping, and whirling flying spinning pausing, dropping straight to the ground and piling up even more. The gusts don't seem to know what way they want to go anymore and so the poor snowflakes are getting blasted around everywhichway imaginable. I think. They were earlier, anyway, but at this point between the wind and the sheer amount of snow coming down, it's more or less impossible to see across the street. At this point, there's this awesomely mauve-ish radiant glow coming in from outside, as the reflections of all the streetlights in the area are bouncing around through all the snow - I can't see any of the streetlights individually anymore except for the one directly across the street, but they're having this cumulative effect of lighting everything up so that it's much brighter than I'd think it normally should be at 12:30am. Why this has decided to go mauve is beyond me.
I'm teaching Baudrillard tomorrow, which I haven't yet re-read. I have roughly 12 microthemes left to grade. I've spent the day pixel farming, watching the Olympics, foruming, playing around with my new MyPlate account in an attempt to get a vague idea as to what the hell I actually eat, and killing my arms with Jillian Michaels. Nothing productive on the teaching front other answering emails from my students wherein I promise to meet them tomorrow after class to discuss paper topics, the which class I am currently thinking may be cancelled because (due to aforementioned whiteout) I am not sure my car will make it all the way to campus. My beloved little car is not happy with the snow.
The food tracking thing will probably last about a week. I'm just sort of curious to see what sorts of food I eat through the week. The tracker is counting calories (hate) and then breaking up my food intake into carbs, fat and protein. In two days, I've figured out that I apparently kick ass at getting enough fiber, but it (the tracker will from here out only be "it") doesn't think I'm eating enough carbs, which I find near-riotously funny because I often feel like carbs are 95% of my food intake (which I don't think is bad). I'm uncomfortable with the calorie-counting thing, however. The way it works, there's a baseline caloric intake that it thinks I should be eating every day: it starts with that total and then subtracts out everything I tell it I've eaten. If I work out, it adds a few calories back in for me so that it can subtract them back out later. I suppose this is probably the way to go about getting a general idea of what I eat, but I hate thinking about calorie levels. I've known too many people who have been calorie-obsessed, and I feel like having a calorie count in front of me is like trying to get myself to think of my food in terms of numbers rather than in terms of "red veggies are good for me, so I should have them." Like with a potato, for instance: when I see a potato, I think of how potatoes have shittons of potassium along with the carbs and are therefore good to eat before I'm planning a major workout (mashed potatoes at dinner tend to make for superawesomesauce running fuel the next morning). However, I know too many people who look at potatoes and think only of the carbs, that carbs are bad (RRRRRRRRR, South Beach Diet), and that the potato should therefore not be consumed (or, more unfortunately, that the potato is eaten guiltily). I'm oversimplifying this a lot, I know, and I know that the people for whom food=numbers rather than enjoyment tend to have that attitude toward food for numerous reasons, not all of which are bad, some of which are very good. At the moment I'm feeling guilty for a half-piece of cheesecake that I ate for dessert because it put me over my MyPlate caloric allotment for the day. I hate feeling that guilt, especially because I don't feel like I should be feeling it.
I guess my point here is that food for me isn't about numbers, and I don't want it to become that way, because for me that type of thinking tends to be unhealthy for me personally. If I think of food in terms of bright colors and nutrients within rather than calories, I eat much better and with much less guilt. So I'll track my food intake for a week or two to see roughly what I eat, and then I'm stopping it, because I can already sort of feel the numbers game running in my mind and I don't want it to get ingrained.
I'm teaching Baudrillard tomorrow, which I haven't yet re-read. I have roughly 12 microthemes left to grade. I've spent the day pixel farming, watching the Olympics, foruming, playing around with my new MyPlate account in an attempt to get a vague idea as to what the hell I actually eat, and killing my arms with Jillian Michaels. Nothing productive on the teaching front other answering emails from my students wherein I promise to meet them tomorrow after class to discuss paper topics, the which class I am currently thinking may be cancelled because (due to aforementioned whiteout) I am not sure my car will make it all the way to campus. My beloved little car is not happy with the snow.
The food tracking thing will probably last about a week. I'm just sort of curious to see what sorts of food I eat through the week. The tracker is counting calories (hate) and then breaking up my food intake into carbs, fat and protein. In two days, I've figured out that I apparently kick ass at getting enough fiber, but it (the tracker will from here out only be "it") doesn't think I'm eating enough carbs, which I find near-riotously funny because I often feel like carbs are 95% of my food intake (which I don't think is bad). I'm uncomfortable with the calorie-counting thing, however. The way it works, there's a baseline caloric intake that it thinks I should be eating every day: it starts with that total and then subtracts out everything I tell it I've eaten. If I work out, it adds a few calories back in for me so that it can subtract them back out later. I suppose this is probably the way to go about getting a general idea of what I eat, but I hate thinking about calorie levels. I've known too many people who have been calorie-obsessed, and I feel like having a calorie count in front of me is like trying to get myself to think of my food in terms of numbers rather than in terms of "red veggies are good for me, so I should have them." Like with a potato, for instance: when I see a potato, I think of how potatoes have shittons of potassium along with the carbs and are therefore good to eat before I'm planning a major workout (mashed potatoes at dinner tend to make for superawesomesauce running fuel the next morning). However, I know too many people who look at potatoes and think only of the carbs, that carbs are bad (RRRRRRRRR, South Beach Diet), and that the potato should therefore not be consumed (or, more unfortunately, that the potato is eaten guiltily). I'm oversimplifying this a lot, I know, and I know that the people for whom food=numbers rather than enjoyment tend to have that attitude toward food for numerous reasons, not all of which are bad, some of which are very good. At the moment I'm feeling guilty for a half-piece of cheesecake that I ate for dessert because it put me over my MyPlate caloric allotment for the day. I hate feeling that guilt, especially because I don't feel like I should be feeling it.
I guess my point here is that food for me isn't about numbers, and I don't want it to become that way, because for me that type of thinking tends to be unhealthy for me personally. If I think of food in terms of bright colors and nutrients within rather than calories, I eat much better and with much less guilt. So I'll track my food intake for a week or two to see roughly what I eat, and then I'm stopping it, because I can already sort of feel the numbers game running in my mind and I don't want it to get ingrained.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Is it Spring yet?
I really, really, really should get off my ass and stop playing Jungle Jewels on facebook (maybe I should play farmville? I think it would be more social somehow) and go read the stuff for class tomorrow. I'm not particularly worried about class tomorrow in that I'm teaching the first half of "the Dead" (YAY JOYCE! says the lit geek, fully aware that my class will hate it), and I've pretty much got it memorized. Ergo I've been having a hard time convincing myself to reread it and will probably just hunt through it some tomorrow during my tutoring hours so that I know exactly where I'll be pointing the discussion.
Silly thing of the night: I'm sitting on the futon and fart a little bit. Right as I'm doing so, Nunkin jumps up on my lap. I tell her what I've just done. She cocks her head at me, turns in a circle and sits next to me, about two feet away. About a minute later, she comes and curls up on my lap. I swear cats understand us.
I've been sitting here trying to write on this blog and telling myself that as I write, something about which to write will magically appear in my brain. It often does. Right now, however, it's not happening, and all I can think about is my horoscope for the day, which told me I was going to be oversensitive and whiny. This has been entirely true for the day (erm, for this whole blog - like all of it, not just this post), but I had to laugh about the horoscope because as true as it is, I just can't picture a random planetary configuration causing all of this. Mostly I do think it's the SAD hitting as per usual. I am trying to remember to take vitamin D to see if that helps. Who knows - it might really do something if I can manage to remember to take it daily. If nothing else, I'm hoping for a placebo effect, which I figure would work as well as anything else on winter blahs.
Goal for tomorrow: get something - anything! - done. ANYTHING.
Silly thing of the night: I'm sitting on the futon and fart a little bit. Right as I'm doing so, Nunkin jumps up on my lap. I tell her what I've just done. She cocks her head at me, turns in a circle and sits next to me, about two feet away. About a minute later, she comes and curls up on my lap. I swear cats understand us.
I've been sitting here trying to write on this blog and telling myself that as I write, something about which to write will magically appear in my brain. It often does. Right now, however, it's not happening, and all I can think about is my horoscope for the day, which told me I was going to be oversensitive and whiny. This has been entirely true for the day (erm, for this whole blog - like all of it, not just this post), but I had to laugh about the horoscope because as true as it is, I just can't picture a random planetary configuration causing all of this. Mostly I do think it's the SAD hitting as per usual. I am trying to remember to take vitamin D to see if that helps. Who knows - it might really do something if I can manage to remember to take it daily. If nothing else, I'm hoping for a placebo effect, which I figure would work as well as anything else on winter blahs.
Goal for tomorrow: get something - anything! - done. ANYTHING.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
I know it just won a Golden Globe and all
...but I still refuse to see "Dances With Smurfs."
Okay, maybe it's technically brilliant and I gather it's so flipping beautiful that it depresses people to see our own world or whatever (seriously - CNN said so), but my fucking FSM I NEED A PLOT IN MY FILMS. OR AT LEAST PLAUSIBLE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. Honestly, Up in the Air was excellent, and The Hurt Locker should have won for director (which in the interest of staying honest I will admit here to having not seen yet - I've been waiting for dvd and Netflix so that I can watch it with whatever breaks I need to take to be able to deal with it). At least Glee won, so I can deal with that. And Robert Downey Jr's speech was perfect.
In reality: classes start tomorrow. I managed to do better than I have some semesters in dealing with this problem. My syllabus is already photocopied, even - two years ago I managed to photocopy my syllabus five minutes before class began. I'd have been fucked proper if the copy machine hadn't been working. So this semester the syllabus is done (finished mostly last night around 1am - such a fantastically fail way to spend a Saturday night), I've got everything that I could find online up on Blackboard already and a list of the last few articles/books I need to request from the library ready to go on my laptop for some point in the next day or two when I feel like bothering the folks at the ILL desk. My nails are polished in a fairly non-professional yet course appropriate black-with-red-shimmer and I know exactly what BPAL I'm wearing tomorrow but am still stumped on actual clothing (aka, the only part of my appearance other than my hair that my students are likely to notice in the slightest). Story of my life - the details are all put together but I'm missing a few of the major pieces.
As far as it being the start of my last semester of grad school, I keep thinking I should have some deep or profound thoughts about it, but I don't. I don't even really have a "yippee" type feeling about it. I just want it to end. I'm hoping the class goes well (it generally does - this is my third go-round with the syllabus), but beyond that I just want it over and I want to move on with my life.
I started reading some of the novel last night because I felt like working on it but wasn't being particularly productive in the writing sense of things. And. It's not awful. I wasn't embarassed for myself when I read it. So that's a bonus, because embarassment was pretty much what I was expecting to feel. What I read needs fucktons of work before I'd show it to anyone else (at which point it would need fucktons more work, I'm sure, because that's how these things go), but at least for the moment I'm not feeling bad about it (definite bonus, as I've got this irritating won't-go-away guilt about working on novel stuff when I "should" be working on my dissertation... it maybe time to return to old attempts to rid myself of "should," as "should" never leads to good feelings).
A propos of nothing, I made an apricot-pine nut tart from a Lidia Bastianich recipe, and it was AWESOME. I'll post the pictures and stuff when I figure out how to post pictures here (read: when I bother uploading them from my camera).
I'll just end it here by reiterating that I'm surprised that I'm greeting my last semester of grad school so... blandly. I'm much calmer than I would have thought I'd be.
Also good for calm: The Flaming Lips' "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots."
Okay, maybe it's technically brilliant and I gather it's so flipping beautiful that it depresses people to see our own world or whatever (seriously - CNN said so), but my fucking FSM I NEED A PLOT IN MY FILMS. OR AT LEAST PLAUSIBLE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. Honestly, Up in the Air was excellent, and The Hurt Locker should have won for director (which in the interest of staying honest I will admit here to having not seen yet - I've been waiting for dvd and Netflix so that I can watch it with whatever breaks I need to take to be able to deal with it). At least Glee won, so I can deal with that. And Robert Downey Jr's speech was perfect.
In reality: classes start tomorrow. I managed to do better than I have some semesters in dealing with this problem. My syllabus is already photocopied, even - two years ago I managed to photocopy my syllabus five minutes before class began. I'd have been fucked proper if the copy machine hadn't been working. So this semester the syllabus is done (finished mostly last night around 1am - such a fantastically fail way to spend a Saturday night), I've got everything that I could find online up on Blackboard already and a list of the last few articles/books I need to request from the library ready to go on my laptop for some point in the next day or two when I feel like bothering the folks at the ILL desk. My nails are polished in a fairly non-professional yet course appropriate black-with-red-shimmer and I know exactly what BPAL I'm wearing tomorrow but am still stumped on actual clothing (aka, the only part of my appearance other than my hair that my students are likely to notice in the slightest). Story of my life - the details are all put together but I'm missing a few of the major pieces.
As far as it being the start of my last semester of grad school, I keep thinking I should have some deep or profound thoughts about it, but I don't. I don't even really have a "yippee" type feeling about it. I just want it to end. I'm hoping the class goes well (it generally does - this is my third go-round with the syllabus), but beyond that I just want it over and I want to move on with my life.
I started reading some of the novel last night because I felt like working on it but wasn't being particularly productive in the writing sense of things. And. It's not awful. I wasn't embarassed for myself when I read it. So that's a bonus, because embarassment was pretty much what I was expecting to feel. What I read needs fucktons of work before I'd show it to anyone else (at which point it would need fucktons more work, I'm sure, because that's how these things go), but at least for the moment I'm not feeling bad about it (definite bonus, as I've got this irritating won't-go-away guilt about working on novel stuff when I "should" be working on my dissertation... it maybe time to return to old attempts to rid myself of "should," as "should" never leads to good feelings).
A propos of nothing, I made an apricot-pine nut tart from a Lidia Bastianich recipe, and it was AWESOME. I'll post the pictures and stuff when I figure out how to post pictures here (read: when I bother uploading them from my camera).
I'll just end it here by reiterating that I'm surprised that I'm greeting my last semester of grad school so... blandly. I'm much calmer than I would have thought I'd be.
Also good for calm: The Flaming Lips' "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots."
Thursday, October 29, 2009
An afternoon with the Adderall
I wonder if they spelled it "adderall" to make sure that "ADD" was prominantly featured in the name of the drug.
(at 2:20) I've written this during the course of an afternoon. I took Adderall with lunch today to see if it helps me to get through the mountain of grading I've fallen behind on. Hopefully it works. I took it an hour ago. It's had time to kick in and I can tell that it has because I can feel the sort of light rushy feeling that it tends to give my body. However, I've made it through precisely three microthemes before deciding I should chronicle it and shifted to this instantaneously. Score 1 for the ADD, 0 for the Adderall.
(at 3:02) I've finished grading the last few microthemes, alphabetized and sorted through two stacks of microthemes so that I can hand them out more easily during class tomorrow, and graded 2 papers. I feel like I'm having a hard time writing with a pen - my brain wants to write faster than my hand is capable of moving and my handwriting is smaller than usual. I keep having to cross things out because I'm trying to go too quickly and end up missing letters. I'm wondering if it will be legible to anyone else. It's legible to me, but I'm used to my writing and know what I'm saying. However, I've gotten through those papers fairly quickly and didn't get distracted in the middle of each like I usually do. Score 1 for Adderall, I think. I'd like to be writing more clearly. Will try and focus on that as I keep going.
(at 4:04) I now have 7 papers graded and have just figured out that I have 3 papers on my email that I need to grade as well. However, I'm a third of the way through, so that's a bonus. That also means I've graded 5 papers in an hour. Dude. +5 or something for Adderall. Back to grading.
(at 5:04, which strikes me as funny as it's been precisely an hour) I've graded 11 papers and figured out dinner (which will be pizza and hopefully, if Brownie picks some up, some beer), which is a bonus because that means I don't have to deal with cooking or cleaning up afterward. I want a break, but I keep telling myself I should push through while this stuff is still in effect so that I can be done before Vampire Diaries tonight. Also, who on earth thinks it's appropriate to quote from THE BACK OF THE BOOK to support an argument about a text? Adderall 1, student 0 *headdesk*
(at 6:09) I'm tired and I wish I were done with this but I've got three more physical papers and three papers online that still need to be graded. I'm feeling braindead and tired of repeating the same things (i.e., explain your quote so I know what the hell you mean by quoting it, and try and have an actual thesis please). So it occurs to me that I've been doing this for four hours and am entitled to a break. At the same time I think well, I may as well keep going.
(at 6:46) I'm done with all the papers except for the ones I received via email, which I need to download so I can grade them later. However, that's 18 papers graded with substantial marginal and end commentary, plus the microthemes done and everything sorted and ready to hand back tomorrow.
Basically, I have to admit that the Adderall does help when I'm trying to get through piles of shit that I'd rather not deal with. It did help cut down on the mental chatter and relunctance to try and focus that usually makes grading take a good two or three hours longer than this particular set of papers has taken me. I'm really glad that Adderall is one of those "turn on, turn off" type medications rather than something that I need to let build in my system (like an antidepressant) - mostly I'm glad that I know the effects will wear off soonish and I'll be able to think a little more like myself. I'm too tunnel-vision like this to have anything interesting to say. But I had a productive afternoon. I'll be interesting some other time.
(at 2:20) I've written this during the course of an afternoon. I took Adderall with lunch today to see if it helps me to get through the mountain of grading I've fallen behind on. Hopefully it works. I took it an hour ago. It's had time to kick in and I can tell that it has because I can feel the sort of light rushy feeling that it tends to give my body. However, I've made it through precisely three microthemes before deciding I should chronicle it and shifted to this instantaneously. Score 1 for the ADD, 0 for the Adderall.
(at 3:02) I've finished grading the last few microthemes, alphabetized and sorted through two stacks of microthemes so that I can hand them out more easily during class tomorrow, and graded 2 papers. I feel like I'm having a hard time writing with a pen - my brain wants to write faster than my hand is capable of moving and my handwriting is smaller than usual. I keep having to cross things out because I'm trying to go too quickly and end up missing letters. I'm wondering if it will be legible to anyone else. It's legible to me, but I'm used to my writing and know what I'm saying. However, I've gotten through those papers fairly quickly and didn't get distracted in the middle of each like I usually do. Score 1 for Adderall, I think. I'd like to be writing more clearly. Will try and focus on that as I keep going.
(at 4:04) I now have 7 papers graded and have just figured out that I have 3 papers on my email that I need to grade as well. However, I'm a third of the way through, so that's a bonus. That also means I've graded 5 papers in an hour. Dude. +5 or something for Adderall. Back to grading.
(at 5:04, which strikes me as funny as it's been precisely an hour) I've graded 11 papers and figured out dinner (which will be pizza and hopefully, if Brownie picks some up, some beer), which is a bonus because that means I don't have to deal with cooking or cleaning up afterward. I want a break, but I keep telling myself I should push through while this stuff is still in effect so that I can be done before Vampire Diaries tonight. Also, who on earth thinks it's appropriate to quote from THE BACK OF THE BOOK to support an argument about a text? Adderall 1, student 0 *headdesk*
(at 6:09) I'm tired and I wish I were done with this but I've got three more physical papers and three papers online that still need to be graded. I'm feeling braindead and tired of repeating the same things (i.e., explain your quote so I know what the hell you mean by quoting it, and try and have an actual thesis please). So it occurs to me that I've been doing this for four hours and am entitled to a break. At the same time I think well, I may as well keep going.
(at 6:46) I'm done with all the papers except for the ones I received via email, which I need to download so I can grade them later. However, that's 18 papers graded with substantial marginal and end commentary, plus the microthemes done and everything sorted and ready to hand back tomorrow.
Basically, I have to admit that the Adderall does help when I'm trying to get through piles of shit that I'd rather not deal with. It did help cut down on the mental chatter and relunctance to try and focus that usually makes grading take a good two or three hours longer than this particular set of papers has taken me. I'm really glad that Adderall is one of those "turn on, turn off" type medications rather than something that I need to let build in my system (like an antidepressant) - mostly I'm glad that I know the effects will wear off soonish and I'll be able to think a little more like myself. I'm too tunnel-vision like this to have anything interesting to say. But I had a productive afternoon. I'll be interesting some other time.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
15 minutes
I hate how I often think "ooo, I should blog about _______" when I'm not near my computer and then go completely blank when I am sitting at my computer and able to type away. This is probably part of the reason behind my lack of blog posts (beyond teh lazy). So in an effort to get myself back to writing at least as often as I was over the summer, I'm enforcing a 15 minute a day blog session every day this week. We'll see if I come up with anything worth pontificating about.
I had a cold or sinus infection type deal a week and a half ago while I was in Kansas and while I've finally gotten over it to the point that I was able to go out on a run yesterday, I still keep feeling moments of too-tired or really weak or whatever which tend to come in waves and which for some reason have been throwing me into mild panic attacks. I'm sure I'm probably still getting over the illness to a degree or whatever, but I could do without the accompanying "what if I pass out and break my head" panics that come with it. I suppose what I'm really saying is that I'm more tired than I think I should be and that I'd like for the panic attacks to FOAD.
I'm teaching Brave New World this week. I usually enjoy teaching it, but my class last year thought the whole dystopic society in the novel sounded a) roughly like what we're headed toward and b) excellent. The biggest issue for them was that Bernard was "an emo whiner" and that they didn't see why there should be any sort of glorification of emotion when that gets in the way of getting stuff done. This is so antithetical to my general state of mind (i.e., the point of sadness or emotion is to work with it and learn from it) that I was genuinely shocked into not knowing what to do or say. I'm trying to come up with responses to this general sort of sentiment in case I encounter it with this class tomorrow or any other point during the week. So far I'm not getting very far with this. One of the reasons I feel like maybe I shouldn't be a teacher when it comes down to it is that when they express things that take me completely off guard, I feel like it takes me too long to recover - I don't want to quash their ideas entirely, and I don't want to come across as though I think my stance on an issue is the only valid one, but I really ought to be better at challenging them into a deeper train of thought than I am - aka me sitting there flabbergasted doesn't bode well for my ability to help lead them into a better understanding of anything. At the same time, if I'm sitting there absolutely flabbergasted by what someone has just said and what many others are agreeing with, chances are someone else in the room is just as shocked as I am but less willing to say anything about it. So maybe I should express the shock. Or maybe I should take a bath and think through how to deal with this so that I can express something more productive than shock.
I wonder what the hell type of job I'll have in a year. I hope I *have* a job in a year.
I had a cold or sinus infection type deal a week and a half ago while I was in Kansas and while I've finally gotten over it to the point that I was able to go out on a run yesterday, I still keep feeling moments of too-tired or really weak or whatever which tend to come in waves and which for some reason have been throwing me into mild panic attacks. I'm sure I'm probably still getting over the illness to a degree or whatever, but I could do without the accompanying "what if I pass out and break my head" panics that come with it. I suppose what I'm really saying is that I'm more tired than I think I should be and that I'd like for the panic attacks to FOAD.
I'm teaching Brave New World this week. I usually enjoy teaching it, but my class last year thought the whole dystopic society in the novel sounded a) roughly like what we're headed toward and b) excellent. The biggest issue for them was that Bernard was "an emo whiner" and that they didn't see why there should be any sort of glorification of emotion when that gets in the way of getting stuff done. This is so antithetical to my general state of mind (i.e., the point of sadness or emotion is to work with it and learn from it) that I was genuinely shocked into not knowing what to do or say. I'm trying to come up with responses to this general sort of sentiment in case I encounter it with this class tomorrow or any other point during the week. So far I'm not getting very far with this. One of the reasons I feel like maybe I shouldn't be a teacher when it comes down to it is that when they express things that take me completely off guard, I feel like it takes me too long to recover - I don't want to quash their ideas entirely, and I don't want to come across as though I think my stance on an issue is the only valid one, but I really ought to be better at challenging them into a deeper train of thought than I am - aka me sitting there flabbergasted doesn't bode well for my ability to help lead them into a better understanding of anything. At the same time, if I'm sitting there absolutely flabbergasted by what someone has just said and what many others are agreeing with, chances are someone else in the room is just as shocked as I am but less willing to say anything about it. So maybe I should express the shock. Or maybe I should take a bath and think through how to deal with this so that I can express something more productive than shock.
I wonder what the hell type of job I'll have in a year. I hope I *have* a job in a year.
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