I am just over-the-top stressed at the moment. This week students in all my classes are turning in their portfolios, and it's hard to tell who's crazier, them or me. (Is "them or me" grammatical? Will I fail if it isn't??)

So it's a time for herding them all in the same direction, which is never an easy task. And it's a time for reflection, for looking back at the semester . . . and totting up my mistakes. For reasons that are not entirely my fault, the timing in my Business Writing classes was all off, so all the major assignments have come due in the past few weeks. I offered to read drafts of everything (and required drafts of everything) long before this, but few people took me up on that. So for the past week, I've had stacks of papers to read every night; they have to be returned immediately because students won't have time to revise if I don't get them back. And still, I have students coming to me at the last minute, wanting me to read things. Or they want extensions on non-extendable deadlines. (One student, who was to have turned her work in yesterday, wanted to know if she could have until Friday. Like, no, she can't; the external reader was supposed to have those portfolios available yesterday, and I'm already stretching things until tonight . . . )

And they're scared that they're going to fail; the fear is practically palpable. I'm scared, too; this is the first time that the "products" of my teaching will be evaluated by others (in the FY comp class, 70% of the grade rests on the portfolio), and I'm terrified that finally, once and for all, my colleagues will discover that I'm a sham and a pretender. Students have to write an in-class essay today. Did we spend enough time on in-class essays? (NO!) Did we spend enough time talking about writing, reflecting on writing? Did I help them become more self-aware? (NO, NO, NO!!!) Did we spend enough time talking about structure, style, mechanics, grammar? (ABSOLUTELY NOT!!)

So, of course, I have been reacting to extreme stress in my usual fashion: I've angered everyone around me; I've not gotten enough exercise; I can't sleep at night; I've gotten horribly depressed. I dreamed the other night that I was at a party with UM's Associate Provost and we were having a fine old giggly time until I asked him, "Can you please hire me to teach in Ann Arbor?" (I've been noticing that people in Ann Arbor seem . . . well, better-looking, and the physical plant at UM is of course head and shoulders above this community college, and people at UM were more intelligent, and the campus was cleaner . . . most of this has to do with money, no doubt. But nonetheless I've been feeling that my surroundings, along with me and everyone in them, are just dull and dingy and dirty.)

Oh, well. This too shall pass . . . just a few more weeks and it's Christmas break. Not only do I have the Nutcracker to look forward to, but Charlie and I are flying out to see my brother after Christmas, and I can't wait. (I hope Charlie's speaking to me by then . . . )

*sigh*

I promise the next entry won't be so whiny.