Cedric sits down to a stack of papers and feels good. There's a warm glow surrounding him, and he's proud that he finally beat the urge to procrastinate.
After a few essays, things already start to blur together, but he keeps moving. The sun is shining, and the coffee still hasn't eaten through his stomach lining.
Soon, he checks the pile--big mistake--and realizes he's only graded four. After four more, it's hard to focus. It's hard to see. It's hard to care.
After a few more, he starts talking to himself.
"You can do this," Cedric says, shaking his arms out at his sides. "Stretch it out. Here you go, big Ced. Just one, two, three, four, fix, six--six? still six?--more."
But it's not working. He's no longer on earth. He can't read, and he certainly can't decipher what it's all supposed to mean.
Game over.
Time for a strawberry shortcake.
Don't worry, I did the rest for him. It's easy to grade when you've got sun, and flowers, and outdoor seating:
It also helps to surround yourself with as many colors and patterns as possible:
Cedric just needs to wear more floral.
Maybe if I had Cedric, I would have kept teaching, but I doubt it. The poor guy didn't do so well grading your papers, and you're a better, nicer teacher than I. The last paper that sent me over the edge was the one that opened with: The pine beetle and the pine tree have a lot in common: they both like pine. What was worse was when I tried to explain the ad hoc ergo propter hoc to this poor child and she still couldn't see the problem with her argument. What would Cedric do? (WWCD?) Hang in there. It's almost summer break.
ReplyDeleteGreat blog, Cynthia. As usual, your professionalism in all endeavors makes me feel like the hack that I am. Speaking of being a hack, I just bought a straight razor.
Haha! Maybe pine trees hate pine. Maybe they spend all their time trying to grow leaves. Thanks for your comment! Though I'm not sure professionalism means dressing up a tiny figurine. If it does, I'm ready for a full-time job.
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