Stop all the clocks

On Friday the semester comes to a close, which means I have reached the end of another academic year, my 25th to be precise.  Next week the Board of Trustees and the president will give me a desk clock.  Tick, tick, tick.  Not that I'm ungrateful, mind you.  It is altogether fitting and proper that we mark these little milestones.  Still I might prefer something more germane to the job: a course release for a semester, a few extra bucks in my faculty development account.  Heck, I would even go for a few stiff drinks on the house.


It's been that kind of semester.


The biggest challenge was teaching a course made up of academically-challenged and at-risk students.  Even though I adjusted the course and scaffolded the hell out of the assignments, I just could not get all of them over the finish line.  Two disappeared and a good number will likely have to leave as the result of consecutive semesters of academic probation.  Many days I just felt like I was tormenting them more than helping them. 

Add to that transitioning my mother to assisted living, selling her house, getting her to various doctors for her cancer treatments (currently in remission) and managing the sturm and drang of a son with a major case of being thirteen and, yeah, a stiff drink might do nicely.  But I will just have to settle for that clock.  Like I need another reminder that time is passing.

Tick, tick, tick...

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