In the Corner

So, while I know that I'm supposed to being witty in my banter in order to beat out the news people and E (which I may never be able to do based on that last post), I just wanted to write to complain about the fact that I can't get any work done. I'm putting down the gloves for a minute because I simply don't have the energy to throw a wicked left hook right now.

I know that it's going to be a busy weekend, and I know that I have a lot of work that will need to get done on top of all the running around that I have to do. The problem is that I have this last hour of school free, and I can't force myself to actually DO any of the work. I don't feel like grading quizzes and journals. I don't feel like thinking about Lord of the Flies or sonnets anymore. I don't care that Death shouldn't be proud or that Jack is becoming increasingly cruel toward Piggy. Honestly, I really don't.

Sometimes, I envy people who don't love their jobs. When they go home, they get to leave it all behind. I thought that teaching English would ensure that I would always get to have literature in my life. This, in fact, is the truth, unfortunately to a fault. What I didn't consider was the downside to ALWAYS being around the thing that you love. When you can't get away from it, it can make it hard to love it all the time. As I write this, I realize that my words are also making a profound statement about the proposition of marriage or cohabitation (things I intend to avoid for quite some time based on my current experience). Anyway, back to the point. The point is that I have to talk about Lord of the Flies for at least 90 minutes per day (180 on a bad day), and that's after I've spent two hours preparing for the class. So, if I've done my math right, that's 310 minutes (or 400 on a bad day) for ONE chapter of the book. For those of you who are curious, there are 12 chapters in this God-forsaken book. I'll spare you the rest of my calculations, but this one was just to emphasize the reason that I don't even want to think about William Golding or his theory on the evil and good that resides in humans.

Maybe I'll head to the library, forget about my volumes of responsibility, and raise some hell. Then again, that would put me in the vicinity of more books (something I intend to avoid, at least for the remainder of the weekend).