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So, we were able to get out and take a bit of a walk and have a little lunch, and the walk and the lunch seem to have gone well, not least because I was able to put my finger on exactly what’s had me feeling so stifled and on the cusp of depressed. R.’s illness hasn’t exactly been either of our idea of a grand vacation, but he’s been an excellent patient to take care of, and he really is recovering, and we’ve actually had a fairly good time through the midst of it, tracking down ginger ale and watching TV in bed. Plus, we’ve got an amazing hotel room, on the corner of the hotel, with not one but two balconies overlooking the Pacific. And, as folks who know me reasonably well know, there’s nothing I like better than holing up in a hotel room, away from my regular life, and getting some work done. So what’s the problem?

In a word: grading. I brought two batches of midterm papers with me, and they’ve proven somewhat demoralizing. Not just in the level of problems that they evidence (though that would be bad enough), but in the amount of time that it’s taking for me to comment adequately on them, in order to explain both what the problems are and why they must be taken seriously. I’ve been working fairly studiously on them (inbetween ginger ale runs) since our arrival on Friday, and I’m still less than halfway through batch two.

Which is hugely depressing because I’ve got so many things that I want to be working on–the outline for my current project; the syllabi for next year’s classes; MediaCommons-related stuff; general blogging. I want to write! I want to read! And instead I’m completely bogged down in the one part of my job that I genuinely dislike.

So whininess ensues. The only way out, however, is through, so I’m gritting my teeth and ducking my head and getting back to it. Wish me luck.

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