I doubt I would be alone if I confessed that Sunday night is not my most productive time. I am thinking about either sleep or dreading the need to wake up early for work the next morning. I am usually in no mood to plan lessons, or even wonder what I should teach my students. If I haven’t already planned it on Friday (
Rarely Sometimes usually this happens), then it probably won’t happen until I am on the bus headed to work.
This weekend, owing to the fact that I had a substitute teacher take the class while I took care of my leg issue, my students handed me a pile of writing to be marked by Monday. I tried to look cheer and happy as they handed it to me, but I am not sure I was able to pull it off. It might have been the frown, or the twitchy hands, but I am sure they detected my reluctance.
Had I been smart, I would have stayed at work on Friday and marked those papers. Then, they would be on my desk, and would have had no bearing on my weekend. That would have been the smart thing to do. That would have been the kind of advice I would have given my students about the homework I had given them.
So, there it was all weekend, sitting in my bag, hoping that the magical homework genie would take care of it. As you can imagine, the genie abandoned me. At that moment, marking student writing was the last thing I wanted to do. Almost anything would be better than that. Sadly, procrastination is not an Olympic sport.
Just in case you were thinking about being a teacher, this post should give you caution.
So, why am I writing about this? I am writing about this because I got it done. I sat down at eight o’clock and started to correct and mark. I promised myself a Haagen-Dazs reward and was quite happy to indulge.