By me.
(Forgive the breaches in iambic pentameter.)
To leave or not to leave? That is the question.
Whether 'tis nobler in the long run to suffer
The long oppression of my classroom,
Or to take off from school,
And sink into the comfort of my couch?
To leave, to part-- no more.
And in parting, to say I end the thousands of messy papers
Stacked on my desk and simply forget them.
'Tis oblivion devoutly to be wished. To leave, to vacate...
To vacate, perchance to VACATION... Ay, there's the rub,
For in Christmas vacation what dreams will come!
Yet before I shuffle off this grading coil,
I first must pause... There's the respect
That makes for such long hours at school.
For who would bear the messy desk, the flourescent lights,
The piles of papers, the students' slacking,
The incessant planning, the papers still to come--
When I might simply leave and go home
To my hot tub? Who would all this bear,
To grunt and sweat for this difficult profession,
But that the dread of grading over Christmas vacation
Makes me rather sweat it out now, and try to get 'er done...
So that come Friday I'm just a little bit more free than I am right now.
Thus, conscience does make drudges of us all...
And thus the native tendency to procrastinate
Weakens and cowers when such Christmasy freedom beckons on the horizon.
Soft you now, the AP timed writes...! Back to work and grading...
p.s. Have I mentioned recently that I really DO like my job...? Most of the time...?
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