My work backpack has become my new exercise routine. I load it up with work, carry it around,
never open it, carry everything back to work, and repeat this process
nightly. The only thing I am actually
accomplishing is some weightlifting practice and some loosening of my rotator
cuffs.
Case in point - I brought work home with me on Wednesday
before the Thanksgiving break. That same
work is still sitting in the backpack. I
did do some of my own homework, due Wednesday along with a revised portfolio due
in a week, so it's not like I've been sitting idly watching nonexistent wet
paint dry. Plus we had a series of half
days for conferences before the break, and I have spent the last eight school
days juggling instruction and correcting papers until I was ready to pass out
from exhaustion at my desk.
But this does not excuse me from the constant routine of
hauling home piles of work that I intend to correct … but never do. It will get done during planning time and
lunches and after school and sitting in meetings and between classes, I
suppose, and it will take days longer than if I just sat at my kitchen table
for hours on end and worked at it.
Truth be known, I didn't want to do it this past
weekend. I have been too busy with the
holiday and travel and setting up Christmas and shopping and driving people
around and on the hunt for the elusive (yet finally captured) tree skirt. If it takes an extra few days to get essays
returned, so be it. Sue me. Fire me.
Put me in front of a spitball firing squad.
I simply cannot correct those papers at home. I will have to carry them with me for a few
days until new papers are collected with which to replace them. After all, this is my exercise routine we're
talking about. If I catch up on
everything, my arms will develop bat wings and my shoulders will droop.
Or I'll have to actually go to the gym. Either way, the options are ugly.
