Another hectic day. Woke up at 3:00 a.m., after having turned off the light at 11:00 p.m.: a grand total of four hours’ sleep. Got up, fiddled around for a couple of hours. Went back to bed, the alarm set for 6:00. Gave up on that before the binger went off.
Last night the president of our Thursday networking group e-mailed to remind us of the meeting and say who was next up to do a presentation. Seeing my name in the message, I thought it seemed a little early for a repeat performance; however, a couple people were going out of town, so we had juggled the calendar and I had volunteered to take an earlier than usual date. So it was that along about 6:00 p.m. I realized I had to be ready with a business presentation by 6:45 this morning, when I have to fly out the door.
Spent the evening putting together “Seven Business-Related Jobs That Are Worth Farming Out”—not a bad dog-&-pony show for such short notice. And it’s doing double duty as content for this quarter’s newsletter.
As it developed, one of the other members was slated for today; I was flagged for next week. Luckily, though, for both of us, he hadn’t seen the e-mail and so had nothing to offer. Serendipitously, then, I had something to fill the space and he had a week to come up with something new to entertain us. Win-win!
Thence to campus, where the little 101 McBoingers are turning in drafts for their first researched paper of the semester. Today they reported on their progress, which in some cases was “nil.” After my having explained three times that this 750 “draft” should NOT be draftig but should be “as close to FINAL as you can make it, because I will grade it the same way I grade a final paper so that you can see what to expect when the remaining 200-point papers come your way,” it was clear that some of them still didn’t have the message.
One kid didn’t know how long the paper was supposed to be. This is appears in writing, SIX TIMES, in the syllabus, over which they have all taken a quiz, one of whose questions was “how long are the papers for this class?” Others had not noticed that said paper is expected not to be a “rough” draft but something more like a “final” draft, despite this instruction also having been written out in said syllabus and despite my having explained it repeatedly.
They sleep with their eyes open.
You wonder why I feel teaching freshman composition is a waste of everyone’s time, theirs as well as mine?
Back to the CE Desk office for a round of tasks so mundane and done in such a haze that I can’t even remember what they were. Edited some copy, answered e-mail, thought about editing other copy.
Figured out a way to jam the bedroom Arcadia door open about 9 inches, just too narrow for an adult man to squeeze through (although his girlfriend could get through if she were flat-chested, and surely his kid could slip in). The weather is supposed to cool starting early next week. This will allow me to turn off the air-conditioning, at last, and cool the bedroom with fresh air.
To get in through the nine-inch opening, you’d have to open the relatively sturdy screen, which has a metal border wide enough to block the opening even after the burglar takes a pocket knife to the screen. A couple of squealers glued to the inside of that wide border should give anyone who tries to get in a little surprise. So I don’t think it’ll be excessively unsafe.
I hope.
Speaking of editing copy, it’s only about 8:30 p.m. There’s just about enough time to get through another chapter of one of my fave client’s mystery novels before I can no longer hold my eyes open. And so, to work…
Do any of the kids in your classes have a brain? I hope both my dauighters go away to college, but if going to college makes them stupider, then I think my money should go somewhere else.
@ TB: Did either of us have a brain at the age of 19? 😀
They’re kids.
That’s one of two reasons I dislike teaching freshman comp: 1) it’s a waste of time; and 2) if I’d wanted to teach high school, I would have gotten a teaching certificate, not a Ph.D.
Reading the posts like this I almost feel bad for the shit I pulled in Freshman English…if I remembered who those professors were I’d shoot them an email!
@ Evan: freshmen don’t yet have all the nuts and bolts screwed down tight. 🙄
For a full(er) description of yesterday’s 101 antics, see http://www.adjunctorium.com/2012/10/05/countdown-to-freedom-1052012/
I have a friend who’s an adjunct teaching seniors at our local university and she complains about them almost exactly the same way that you do. “EVERYTHING IS IN THE SYLLABUS! THE SYLLABUS IS 35 PAGES LONG! ALL THEY HAVE TO DO IS READ!”
It’s sad and funny at the same time. And by that I mean funny to me since I don’t have to deal with them =)
My syllabus, unfortunately, is 20 pages long. About 15 pages of that is boilerplate required by the college. The specific reason I give them a 10-question, 100-point quiz is to draw their attention to the 5 pages that matter and get them to read the parts that matter.
I don’t remember kids in my Freshman English class being so dense. Then again, I was a slightly older student, went mostly to night school, and quite liked English comp. Yep, it’s probably the rose-colored glasses…
They’re not. They’re just kids. If all the classmates in my class could be “older students,” teaching freshman comp would probably be a pleasure. One covets older students.
That’s why I think high-school graduates should be required to spend two years in some sort of national service, or at least flipping burgers, before they’re allowed to continue into higher ed.