I grade a midterm. I try to write. I grade a midterm. I try to write. That's the rhythm of my night. Pretty soon, I'm going to break out my iPod to try to drum up some yuletide musical inspiration. I can almost see where I need to go with my essay, but I simply can't find the words to get there. Perhaps Bing Crosby will make the tumblers in my brain click into place.
Time to grade another midterm.
Anybody out there have a cup of eggnog to share with Saint Marty?
Jump, George! |
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