Diversionary tactics

I worked too hard yesterday and now I'm being punished for it--or that's one way to tell the story. Yesterday I plowed through a pile of papers (including one so good it made me want to dance on my desk and another asserting that understanding nature helps us understand nature), leaving me little to occupy my time while my Concepts of Nature students write their final exams. I read through the few remaining reading comments and I had intended to spend the rest of the exam time grading the Creative Nonfiction multimedia essays, but most of them include music or sound effects, which would distract my students, especially the sound effect demonstrating the noise your lips make when you're trying to play the French Horn. (Don't ask.)

So here I sit in a crowded classroom listening to pens scribbling and pages turning and I've got nothing.

Except my trusty computer! Earlier today (between the morning class session and the 20-minute wait to find a parking space at the Post Office so I could spend $60 on postage, not that I'm complaining because the people who are receiving those packages are worth every penny, but seriously--20 minutes just to PARK?!)--now where was I?

Oh yes: earlier today I was running through digital photo files to find some interesting things to put in our annual Christmas letter (which nobody ever reads so why do I put so much effort into it every year, not to mention the cost of postage?) and I was surprised at how many surprises I found. I had forgotten all about the foxes, for instance, and doesn't it seem like way more than nine months since I took my class to California? I saw lots of smiles in my son's graduation photos in May and our family reunion in August, and I was reminded of how much I love birds and wildflowers. (Maybe too much. How many photos of trilliums does one person really need?)

But the point (yes, there is a point to this little trip down memory lane) is that this was a really busy year, so busy that events that seemed really memorable at the time have been crowded out of my mind by the next big thing, and then the next. So maybe what I need is a few minutes of nothingness, some time to just sit and think and let my mind wander while my students write their exams. Which means maybe this empty time is not a punishment but a gift, and one I ought to accept with open arms.

Nah. Let's play Solitaire!