Today is the last day of summer. Tomorrow, I start teaching at the university again. I've already received e-mails from desperate students, begging me to sign add cards to let them enroll in my Intro to Film classes, which are both filled to capacity. I'm having a hard time this year moving from summer mode into autumn mode. I'm looking forward to the classes, but I'm not looking forward to the shorter days, longer nights, colder temperatures. I'm not looking forward to the extra work.
A month from now, I will have settled into a new routine. I will have gotten used to teaching again, grading again. Right now, I want to cling to ninety-degree days and eighty-degree nights. I'm unwilling to let go. Yes, I know seasons have to change. I know leaves have to change, as well. I know all that crap.
But now Saint Marty has to change with the leaves, too. Green to yellow or orange or red ink, spilled all over quizzes or exams.
Confessions of Saint Marty
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