1. Awkward situations: When a random dude feels compelled to sit directly in front of your line of view at a coffee shop. You know exactly what I'm talking about (you the reader, and you, the dude). I'm sitting here, minding my own business, trying to get through the PILES of grading (though the piles here are metaphorical since most of it is digital--which has interestingly made those "piles" bigger since I no longer feel quite as frantic and short of breath when I think of them), when up strolls random dude with his phone and goofy smile. This particular random dude is covered in tattoos, from his knuckles to his arms and neck, which certainly make it harder not to stare or at least glance in his direction (which is, in fact, directly above my tiny MacBook Air computer screen). And yet, I've got things to do, Buddy, and I'm not looking for a new friend. Oh, that's right, you're not looking for a friend either. So can't you just move along?
2. The impending doom of a dying battery: It's that moment when you think your battery will die before you can complete the task at hand. And this time, I actually brought a charger (rare as that remembrance is), but, ALAS, the only two plugs are currently occupied by college students charging every device possible, and I'd have to majorly violate the personal space rule in order to get a little access (see #1). And so here I sit, letting my precious battery slip down to nothing, growing ever closer to the dangerous red zone, while I rant instead of completing the task at hand.
3. The allure of procrastination. See this blog post as an example.
4. The anxiety of the end of each nine weeks. Particularly when that end is over spring "break."
5. The return of random strangers infringing on the personal space rule. At least Random Dude is facing the other direction this time. Guess I better get back to business before my battery dies. Good luck to all of you fellow procrastinators!
"that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we're all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we'll ever have..."
© K. Ashley Dickson and Teaching the Apocalypse 2018. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to K. Ashley Dickson and Teaching the Apocalypse with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. All thoughts and ideas are the author's and do not represent any employer.