Woke up at 3:30 a.m. worrying about tables--will the caterers bring a table to set up in the hallway outside my classroom or do I need to provide one? And what about the faculty feedback forms? I need to make some copies! Better make sure my phone is charged so I can time my students' presentations, and where will we find extra chairs if the room fills up?
One thing I did not bother to worry about at 3:30 a.m. was whether the room where my capstone students are doing their public presentations this afternoon would spring a leak. Okay, I can deal with the other petty details, but fixing a leaky roof is outside my bailiwick. Now I get to worry about whether the leak will be repaired in time for my students' presentations, and how am I supposed to keep myself calm in the meantime?
I could try to track down the apple I had in my hand when I left the house this morning, since it's clearly no longer in my possession. How long before I find it rotting under the passenger seat in my car?
I could think about grading some quizzes and papers, if I could get my fingers to stop jittering all over the keyboard long enough to click on a file.
I could stop trying to think altogether and go out to do some shopping. I need new towels, big fluffy navy blue ones to replace the pathetically thin faded towels I'm currently using, but I can't leave campus without losing my perfect parking spot and then I'll have something new to obsess about.
One thing I won't do is worry about the actual presentations. I've done all I can to prepare my students; at this point all I can do is sit back and watch the magic happen.
As soon as I'm done checking on tables and making copies and charging my phone and seeing whether the leaky roof is fixed. Everything is going to be fine, I tell myself, and if I say it often enough, I just might believe it.
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