I take a minute out to dash off a post in between papers. Or numbers-of-papers. I am typing my comments into my lappy here at the dining table, rather than writing them by hand as my handwriting is embarassingly poor. And I have to stop every half hour or so to think of something else for a couple of minutes or I end up just skim reading the essays, thinking ‘yeah, I get the point’. And having to go back to re-read, because this isn’t like reading journal articles or academic books – you’re not reading to ‘get the point’, you’re reading to see if they understand what they’re writing about, and to see if they’re actually capable of writing about it with any coherency.
I guess one advantage to my using the dining table to mark is that I can’t just nick off for a spot of sewing – it’s difficult to cut fabric when your cutting table is covered in papers.
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Coherency? What’s that?
Okay, that was a bit harsh, especially when I’ve just marked a paper that got 54/60.
If you haven’t gathered from this avalanche of comments, I am avoiding marking the last few assignments. But I won’t procrastinate by doing a blog post. No sir-eee, I have far more self-control than that.
I wonder if your comments screening thingy will let these all through? It might think I’m a nuisance caller.
It’s time to walk home. Bugger, now it’s dark out. I’ll threaten any potential mugger with my bright red marking pen. It’s a lethal weapon. In the hands of an expert.
Oh god, now I’m channelling all those action adventure series I’ve been reading about.
G’night.
I have a mighty pacer (mechanical pencil for you old schoolers).
Sometimes I press so hard (when faced with something particularly dumb) that I break the lead.
Look out muggers, or I’ll break my lead on you.
…I blame the marking for this sort of comment.
I blame marking for everything.