Ah, the joy of teaching your last class of the semester
in a room perfumed by the remains of the pizza party the previous instructor threw for his class. Of course, I was administering evaluations (as, I suspect, was he). At least the room also boasted a prominent "no eating or drinking" sign.
It's not that I would mind feeding my students; it's just that, by the end of the semester, I'm barely managing to feed myself regularly (and have the increasingly-queasy stomach to prove it). I can't imagine adding another thing to my "to do" list, and, besides, I'm not very good at carrying off anything that might, even by the remotest stretch, be construed as bribery. So the several weeks of 10-hour days full of one-on-one conferences will just have to do as proof that I care about my students. Fingers crossed that that's sufficient.