If only

I had something to tell you that would amuse or edify you.

I've got nothing. I woke up this morning at 3:30, worrying over a final project I had assigned one of my classes. (No, not the blogging portfolios. A different class.) A student had emailed me yesterday asking how she could improve her project because she wanted an A. I think that email was burrowing through my subconscious and so prompted the strange 3:30 worrying.

As a result, I'm overtired. Had to get ready for a meeting. Had a meeting. Had to get ready to announce a set of awards. Went to reception and announced awards. Remembered that I needed to call my vet to get a refill for Clyde's medication. (He has hyperthyroidism, which has very unpleasant symptoms if untreated. And while it's true it can be "cured" through radioactive treatment, I've chosen to avoid the necessity of dealing with radioactive waste products. Yes. That's right. Radioactive waste products.) Learned they dispensed the last tubes of methimazole gel on Friday. (What! They give that gel to other clients?? I thought it was all for me.) Asked for pills instead. Pill pockets make it possible to successfully pill a cat who really, REALLY doesn't like to have his mouth opened. But he'll eat anything.

As you can see, nothing here to delight or edify. (And way too much information about medicating my cat. When tired, I go into hyperfelinism.) So, instead, for those of you who may be putting in a final grading push this week or next, I'm pointing you to this (fairly) recent blog entry by E Hayot at Printculture. It's a post about the importance and yet unpleasantness of grading. It made me feel better to hear someone put it so well. I tend to feel guilty because I don't like grading. I mean, aren't I supposed to love all aspects of my job? So, thank you, E (another UWM alum) for helping me be miserable and happy, all at the same time. It proves the maxim.