That Time of the Term . . .

when alliteration hits.  Or not.

I met with a student this morning to talk about a paper that's due tomorrow.  The student had cancelled a meeting last week, when I was doing a second full round of conferences about the paper.  And they hadn't signed up for one the week before, despite my telling them it was required.

The draft they showed me, which they quite obviously thought I should be deeply impressed with, wasn't impressive.  It started in one direction, veered sharply to another direction, and then concluded in a pretty unrelated direction.  Any one of those directions would have been fine, but the veering made clear that the student hadn't paid attention to the assignment from the get go.

And now they've just emailed me that they won't be in class today, when we're discussing the final project, which counts for more than any previous project, because they're working on this paper.

I think they've finally figured out that they need to do more than fart around BSing in this course.

(Fortunately, there are revision opportunities.  Unfortunately, revision takes a good deal of time, and the student hasn't got a history of putting in time in this course.)

I have spring fever.  Badly.  There's no spring in sight here yet, though.

I need to grade.  And read.  And prep.  And what I really want to do is go out and play in some warm sunshine.  Unfortunately, there's no warmth outside anywhere near.

Four and a half more week.  Must end procrastination!