So close to done. So close.

Today I walked into my messy apartment, looked around and thought, "who lives like this????"

I then realized: I do.

*Sigh* It's that time of year again. Piles of grading. Piles of paperwork. So very many students. Right now I am supposed to be commenting on a stack of drafts to be handed back on Friday-- HA! I just can't bring myself to comment on them. I've finished 5 of the 40 and the thought of reading just one more, trying to think of constructive comments, just makes my head hurt. How's this for my next one:

Stu Dent,

Your paper has a lot of words, and some paragraphs. You have chosen the appropriate font and your name is spelled correctly. For your revised draft I recommend that you work on sucking less. 

Ugh.

How many  more weeks till this semester is over? 

On Smiting.

I would smite you,
were you in front of me,
and I had a heavy item available.

Darla?
You pick on Darla?
You are a cad.

Darla is an open heart,
and she is not alone in that here.

What a place
this is,
the bits and bytes,
our blahhhhhhg.

And we shall carry on,
the six or 4 or
seventeen of us,
as we choose,
with or without
any particular fear
of displeasing you,
or other carbuncular
jackasses who
occasionally raise their
puffy heads
to bark.

What a lovely Wednesday
it is here for me.

And here I am planning
a smiting.

Even if I had to travel,
I still might smite.

I have the tools.
I'm about to have the time.

And for Darla, I would,
well,
for all of us,
I'd do it with
a bit of glee.

You'd be alarmed at my speed,
despite the age
and bad shoulder.