On a pitch-dark morning I drove around a hairpin turn and found my route blocked by a fallen tree—one of the drawbacks of living in the woods. I don't carry a chainsaw in my car but fortunately I was able to squeeze around the far edge where the trunk had shattered, although I wouldn't have made it if my car had been two inches wider. No way a school bus is getting past that tree. As soon as I got into an area with cell-phone coverage, I called my husband to warn him. His car is a little bigger than mine—but he's a genius with a chainsaw.
I wish I had a chainsaw to cut through some of the obstacles blocking my path this week. Next week looks like freedom: No more grading! Time for shopping! Fun with the grandkids! Baking cookies! Taking the whole family to hear the Trans-Siberian Orchestra in concert! Followed, of course, by a quick trip to a sunny place! Just thinking about it exhausts my store of exclamation points.
But standing between me and all that freedom is a pile of research papers begging to be graded, plus three exams I need to proctor and then grade (and if anyone thinks proctoring a two-and-a-half-hour exam is easy, let them come and give it a try—I'd welcome the break).
Meanwhile, an administrative roadblock is thwarting my ability to complete an important project. I wake up in the wee hours in a panic about what will happen if it doesn't get done before winter break, but all my attempts to remove the obstacle or drive around it have proven futile. If I didn't have to spend five hours proctoring exams today, I'd go camp out on a certain administrator's doorstep until the roadblock got removed.
Maybe it's time to equip all our administrators with chainsaws. Professors too. How else can I cut through that big ol' pile o' papers?
Sigh. Better do some grading.
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