It turns out that there is a limit to the amount of judging I can do, and at the end of last week I crashed hard into that wall.
I have a service commitment that is the single most judgment-intensive thing I have ever done at Gladlyville U. I am also teaching three classes. I resolved that last week I would be the most disciplined version of myself that I could possibly be, and this is the thing I learned: there is a ceiling to the amount of self-discipline I can exert. Maybe it's a movable ceiling? I don't know? But a weird thing happened after five days of Maximum Discipline.
I came home on Friday and there was a bill in the mail from the heating and cooling company. They came out for a service call recently, but they said there was no charge because our new furnace has a warranty that covers parts and labor. Getting the bill in the mail should have been a minor annoyance. They're nice folks; if it was a mistake they'll apologize, and if we do actually owe them for the service call we can afford the bill. Instead I opened the envelope and thought about the steps required to resolve the issue, and then I laid my head down on the table and cried. "This is kind of strange and excessive," I thought to myself as the tears kept flowing.
Saturday morning I discovered that a LOWSRA* (Laundry Offender Who Shall Remain Anonymous) had dumped a basket of clean laundry into a dusty corner. This is not the first time I have pointed out to that particular LOWSRA that dumping clean laundry into a dusty corner means it is dusty rather than clean, but for whatever reason this objection doesn't seem to carry much weight. I did not aim any arrows of indisputable logic in the LOWSRA's direction; I did not yell. I just dissolved. "It is very odd to cry helplessly twice in two days over such tiny things," said the small sensible voice in my head.
Yesterday I worked through some of the grading backlog, but I could feel the crash of inner gears. "That is wrong," I would think to myself. "I do not want to explain why it is wrong. Perhaps if I look at another exam I won't have to explain any wrong things." This is not a recipe for grading efficiency, but I made a little headway.
"Can I really take a day off tomorrow?" I wondered last night. "I am feeling so behind. Does this count as necessary work?" The answer was clear and immediate: there are no emergencies in academia. The grading always gets done. Today I did not grade anything at all. After church I watched the Princess Bride with my two youngest kids; later I went rock-climbing with Joe and Pete. I will go to bed at 9:15 or so, and hope that the mysterious inner reservoir I depleted so thoroughly last week is refilled when I wake up in the morning.
Also I will be really glad when it's March.
P.S. Before I conclude this sad-sack post let me tell you what my Pete did. Yesterday he said, "Can I do anything to help? Can I bring you breakfast in bed tomorrow morning? I'd like to do that more often but you always get up so early." This morning he set his alarm for 7 and brought me an omelet with home-grown herbs, and buttered toast, and coffee. Love that boy.
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