I keep getting emails telling me everything is fluid right now, a great description of the current state of my sinuses, which insist on reminding me of the power of ragweed pollen, that tiny particle that makes the entire content of my skull flow like Niagara Falls down the back of my throat.
But the emails are not talking about my sinuses; they're talking about campus pandemic policies for fall semester, which begins one week from tomorrow. Those of us diligently working on syllabi (instead of putting them off to the last minute) were delighted, therefore, to receive an updated mask policy that must be included on all syllabi--until we actually read the policy statement, which consisted of a whole bunch of please-don't-sue-us language followed by [INSERT DEPARTMENTAL POLICY HERE].
I wish I were making this up, but alas, no: our official mask policy looks like a proofreading error. I suppose I could simply copy and past [INSERT DEPARTMENTAL POLICY HERE] on my syllabi, but then I'd be the one looking incompetent. (Could this be an administrative attempt to kick the incompetence can down the road?) A follow-up email from the Powers That Be said that yes, we will have a more specific policy eventually but we need to be patient because everything is so fluid right now, which makes me hate the word fluid with every cell in my body, including the cells that are so worked up right now about fighting off ragweed pollen.
But there's nothing to be done at this point but to blow my nose and wipe my weepy eyes and embrace the fluidity, but have you ever tried giving Niagara Falls a big 'ol hug? Goal one for fall semester: embrace the fluidity without getting dashed to pieces on the rocks. It's a start.
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