Up to No Good

While the rest of the world has been deeply involved in the Congressional elections, Dancing with the Stars, and perfecting beer bong techniques, I've been preoccupied with much less momentous activities. Next week, I get to present a research paper at an academic conference. This shouldn't be a big deal for someone who talked on the air to hundreds of thousands of people at a time for decades, but it is. I am having the most horrific case of stage fright.

Anyway, the preparations for all this have eaten up every spare moment, including the time I would ordinarily spend blogging, eating meals at home, and, uh, housecleaning. Yes, the dust bunnies are back, and they are considering forming a barricade around the vacuum cleaner.

Meanwhile, the semester has reached the point where everyone on campus appears to be going through early-onset middle age. We have about a month of classes left before finals, and all the students are beginning to realize just how much work they need to complete in the next three weeks. This is also the time in the semester when the younger students begin to have emotional crises: broken hearts and hurt feelings abound just when so many people are tired out, anxious, and overwhelmed by their schedules.

The only way out is forward, both for the younger students and for me. We all need to get some sleep. Then, tomorrow morning, I'll clean up my study area, sort out all the papers and scripts for the conference, and start on the final write-through of the presentation script, the first draft of a paper for a panel discussion, and the creation of a new PowerPoint presentation on objectification. Oh, and a critical bibliography with its own PowerPoint slide. Then I get to start on the routine homework, including a paper on a bizarre poem by Robert Browning.

This is all going to seem so easy a year from now. And so worth it.

Algebra Final Today!

The dust bunnies are growing in size and number, and are discussing a coup. The wood stove has issues with its chimney and I haven't dusted anything in weeks. The filing cabinet is empty, but there are papers spread all over the dining room floor, and the dishes in the sink are . . . unpleasant to contemplate.
However, my bed is made, and the laundry is taking care of itself, thanks to the wonders of automation.
Therefore, like the good little logician that I am, I must conclude that we are less than three weeks from the end of the semester.
Next week, the housekeeping blight will have spread further.
Meanwhile, I feel as if vital parts of my brain have left for the coast. I can't find essential documents the Ethics professor handed us in class last week. And I keep thinking about mortality tables and the expected value of insurance policies. These are all symptoms of having to take the Algebra final at 1 this afternoon.
Prayer appears to be needed, since I can't figure out how to solve a whole group of problems. I swear I was in class and watched the professor solve a bunch of these, and even solved some in class myself, but that series of problems is now a complete mystery.
I am strangely calm, though. As one friend keeps telling me, all I have to do is pass.