April 25: Glazed Eyes, Still Punky, Final Exam

To sit, staring at those fixed, glazed eyes, in silence for a moment, would play, Scrooge felt, the very deuce with him.  There was something very awful, too, in the spectre's being provided with an infernal atmosphere of its own.  Scrooge could not feel it himself, but this was clearly the case; for though the Ghost sat perfectly motionless, its hair, and skirts, and tassels, were still agitated as by the hot vapour from an oven.

The reason this description of Jacob Marley's ghost appeals to me this morning is simple:  I still feel half-dead.  The punky exhaustion I had yesterday continues to hang on.  I haven't thrown up.  I haven't taken my temperature, but I wouldn't be surprised if I had a low-grade, malarial fever.  I did take another Motrin when I got out of bed to get ready for work, but even my hair was hurting when I took my shower.  I'm not sure how hair can hurt, but it did.

Therefore, I feel like Jacob Marley.  Dead and miserable.  Thank God all I have to do in class today is administer my final exam.  If I actually had to teach, I'm not sure I could do it.  However, I do have the energy to sit in front of the classroom and watch my students struggle with some multiple choice questions.  If I sit perfectly motionless, maybe I will create some hot vapour of my own, agitate a few things.

That's all Saint Marty's got this morning, folks.  And his hair still hurts.

I'm not feeling quite this punky