I spent all of yesterday at work and part of the evening grading papers. After finally getting done with those around 9:00, I had the midterm exam to write. Four of them, actually. Two for each class. The first I write has all the questions for one class, then I copy and paste the mess in a different order in another document. Test A, test B. Rinse and repeat for the second class. Enter two o’clock and my bedtime.

At work, I had to print off the tests–all four of them–and make fifty copies. That done, I still have to organize my students’ papers so they’re easier to hand back. Alphabetical order, stapling them together while making sure I have them all entered in the gradebook. Two classes and about four assignments’ worth of papers means a lot of organizing and stapling. A student came in at ten because she has tonsilitis and will be going to the doctor during the afternoon exam, so she came in early like I told her to get it over with. That done and my backpack loaded, I go to the first exam. They whine, I ignore it, and fifty minutes later the test is over. Back to the office to eat pretzels and drink soda for lunch while grading the multiple choice and short answer section of the tests. No 100% in that bunch.

Afternoon class at two. They’re chatty, I listen and laugh. I’m tired and wired on caffeine and sugar but it’s not enough. I’m wearing down fast and I just want to hand the tests out and go. Assignment written on the board, graded papers handed back, exams passed out, and they’re off. Ten minutes into the test a student has a question. “Why are these four questions repeated?” Fuck. Had I copied and pasted it wrong? Had I printed it wrong? Had the copier screwed up somehow? “Um, just skip them.” The next five minutes are spent poring over the exam keys which I had printed off first. Sure enough, on the third page of multiple choice, four questions are repeated. I write it on the board that Test A is faulty. Oops. Fuck, I’m slipping.

Another ten minutes go by. “Questions 11 and 12 on the short answer are repeated too.” Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I flip through the exams. I had my laptop there to keep me amused but now I’m opening .doc files scouring them for clues as to what happened. “Skip them. I’ll work something out later.” More chalk on the board to explain which ones are faulty, that I’m faulty, at fault. After a couple minutes staring at the exams, I see it. Pages 3 and 5 of Test A are page 3 and 5 of Test B. Where pages 3 and 5 for Test A went, I have no idea. It was early when I printed them off, and I was doing it with both documents open in the window. I must have clicked on the wrong one to print the odd pages so I could turn around and then do the evens. Something like that. I can’t get my mind to wrap around what’s going on, and even though I have a pseudo-explanation, it still doesn’t make sense. Or was it the evens I misprinted? Was it the copier? Did I put the wrong pages in the copier? Am I losing it? What am I going to do about how this affects the points? Should I run back and get the correct pages printed off for everyone to have? Stupid questions. Can’t think, can’t do anything about it, can hardly even care. Fuck.

All fifty minutes finally are spent. Fake smiles, fake cheery goodbyes, fake wishes for everyone to have a great weekend. Buster back in the bag, retarded tests back in the bag, fake façade of competence back in the bag. I erase the board and flick off the lights. I need a beer. I need a Long Island. I need a baseball bat to the head. <Sigh> Maybe I just need some sleep. Sure, brain, whatever.

No more grading today. I’ve had enough of that for a few days. An hour spent playing with paper and tape creates several small boxes that look like enlarged Scrabble pieces. They should; that’s the point. I hang them all on my corkboard and leave.

Home. I cuddle the cat, I order Chinese, I watch Ghost in the Shell and Gia because they’re the next in alphabetical order. Other than cutting up some paper, I have touched nothing. I have not done dishes, I have not cleaned the fish/snail tanks, I have not cared to do anything. I’m tired. I’m going to bed. Maybe tonight I won’t dream.