Friday afternoon is difficult: I have an hour free between my afternoon class and my late-afternoon meeting, and I ought to use that hour to do some class preps so I don't have to take so much work home with me over the weekend, but I just can't make myself do it. It's been a long day--a long week--a long month, and I'm so close to a small weekend reprieve that I can taste it, if I can just press on through these next two hours....
But I can't. Between 3 and 4 on Friday afternoons, I'll do almost anything but think about classes. I look at the honking big books on my desk and tell myself that if I'll read Monday's sections, I won't have to carry 'em home with me--but it's not happening. Instead, I fiddle. I catch up on my e-mail correspondence. I look at Facebook. I wander the halls practicing Management by Walking Around (aka doing nothing, really, but doing it in the presence of other people). I may even wander into the Writing Center, sit on one of the reclining chairs, and close my eyes for a few moments. Anything but work on classes! Anything but think! I'll think tomorrow! Tomorrow, as Scarlett reminds us, is another day. It's Saturday, in fact, when I won't feel like thinking about class preps at all. Sunday?
Better open those books now or I'll be facing a pretty bleak Sunday afternoon.
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