Work stole my week from me somehow. As I've blogged about before, most university professors and instructors work a 9-month contract and then become essentially self-employed in the summer, working on career advancement tasks such as preparing articles for publication and developing new courses. But some of us also teach a summer class or two at some point. Because I was an adjunct last year and therefore making next to nothing, I leapt at the opportunity to accept a summer class, not knowing whether I would have work for the next year or not. As it turns out, I've got a one-year contract for next year, but the summer class was a done deal by the time that came about. SO, to make a short story much too long, this means I'm now teaching a 5 week intensive course two hours a day, five days a week.
But it's just two hours a day Kaza! Why is a two hour course kicking your ass? Because it's two hours in the classroom, but many more spent prepping, answering emails, copying handouts and quizzes and exams, and, above all, GRADING. It's teaching three weeks of material each week. It's SO much more work than I thought it would be. And it's even worse because the class is smack-dab in the middle of the day, which means prepping at home in the morning with the Little One underfoot (the hubster is home but trying to do his own work before I leave), then commuting, then stopping into the office briefly to make copies and talk to my chair (that's academic-speak for head of the department, I'm not talking to the chair I sit in... I am definitely a bit crazy right now but not holding discussions with the furniture...yet), then running into class and boring them silly for two hours straight, then answering a bazillion questions (okay, more like five or six), then commuting back, then spending some time playing with the Little One who sticks to me like glue after I return, then the whole dinner/bath/bed/etc routine. So somehow one two hour-a-day class is turning into more than I expected, and I still have all of that career-advancement (and in my case, job search) stuff to do.
This is all my way of helping you to understand why I ended up on the bed in our home office on Thursday night, curled up in the fetal position whimpering. The hubster looked at me and asked what was wrong. I told him it was nothing really, just that I was spending nearly every moment of every day answering questions and needs and right now I don't have any time in the day when I can finish a task or even a thought uninterrupted (even while driving I'm interrupted by the abysmal driving in this town).
But today is Saturday!!! I haven't looked forward to the weekend this much in two months. I'm off to play.