Arse Over Elbow . . . and Other Ways In Which I'm F****d
I need a personal assistant. Or a straight jacket. I woke up with a headache. I'm in charge of a blog for our faculty union and I haven't posted to it since October. I'm teaching an online composition course and most of the students appear to have no idea how they're doing in the class -- and at this point, I can't tell if it's because they can't use Blackboard correctly or if I'm really THAT behind in grading. I'm meeting my creative writing students in conferences this week because I AM that behind with grading. I'm writing here because I have the time because I feel like a little reflection and disclosure might help manage my guilt about how badly I mismanaged my responsibilities this semester, despite feeling, more times than not, like I was doing something that needed, absolutely, to be done. One more week. One more week. One more week. This is something I am looking forward to because it has to do with writing and the practi