Every spring, I feel like I don't accomplish very much. The kids don't want to be there; I don't want to be there, and we generally end up antagonizing each other past the limits of reasonable human endurance.
But. There are moments of greatness along the way. One class had a great discussion today about sexual morality (only tangentially related to Byron's poetry, but so substantive that I hated to bring it to any premature ending). The weather is gorgeous, bar the insanely high pollen counts. The research papers I'm grading are better, mostly, than last year's batch of papers. My dog still thinks I'm the greatest thing since sliced bread. I got the funding to do summer study in Oxford. Life is pretty darn good.
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