The end and the beginning

The first thing we do--no, not kill all the lawyers, that would take out all my candidates--the first thing we do, is cross out all the holidays, early dismissals, and other days without any school. That's the best thing about a new semester and blank calendar pages--no, not all the days I don't have to go--the best thing is the easy accomplishment, the illusion of organization that comes with filling in and arranging. The, "there, I did something, and I didn't even think." It may be the only time anything useful comes without effort, but at least there's a way to ease in.

The effort will come with the end of the first semester grading, from the evaluating to the dusting for finger prints. Not that I'll really bust out the forensics kit, but life sure would be easier for everyone if I'd noticed this anonymous work before we all headed for home. Handwriting I can usually match, and I am usually willing. Times New Roman? That's a different dilemma, though I suppose technically not my problem. I'd rather give the points than not, though, and will if the process of elimination allows: it wasn't even a graffiti font. That's progress of a sort.

And perhaps over the next eighteen weeks we'll make progress more significant as those empty boxes fill. Assuming that I keep writing things down and don't, as is my habit, try to hold it all in my head. Perhaps I should make a resolution; I'm only six days late. But it doesn't feel like January--it's seventy degrees! And it doesn't feel like Sunday, despite the fact that I'm grading and there's football on tv. I don't teach tomorrow, so my vacation is not quite over; I can still relax. When I watch The Race and The Wire returns, my attention won't be split. Assuming--huge assumption--that I sit here for the next few hours and FINALLY. GET. SOMETHING. DONE.