Sitting at the Coffeeshop

It's Friday.  This morning, I taught three classes in Virginia, at my main post and alma mater.  Today the students received back their first papers.  Due to layers of bureaucracy not worth documenting, my students are now submitting physical copies of their work, instead of getting their grades and feedback online.  There are pros and cons to the old school approach.  Pros: having lots of space to write comments all over their papers, using circles and x's and colors to communicate in an immediacy not available online.  Cons: actually having to see their faces at the exact moment they see their grades for the first time.  Sweet M, for instance, my eager, kind, intelligent student blinking back tears over a B-.  Mild mannered H, raising a vaguely sinister eyebrow at the sight of his C. Heartbreaking, all of it.

Coffee sans brew, with a former student-turned-friend in the comfy chairs at the campus Starbucks, on a between classes break.

A 45-second meeting with my department head, setting my schedule for next fall-yes, an entire year hence.

Then through one of the two bridge tunnels I cross every week, past the black trail of burned rubber that marks the spot where Wednesday's commute ended in an a dramatic explosion of rear tire across the bridge.

On to my secondary post: a tiny Bible school in a picturesque-yet-decaying outpost in North Carolina to teach students eager from the moment I entered the room for me to bless the class in benediction and send them off on their week-long fall break.

Now I'm sitting in my favorite coffee shop with a dirty chai and a bag of beans, gearing up for another commute through Virginia's Hampton Roads Southside, pondering a different sort of post, as in the blog post I didn't finish yet, the one I promised you yesterday.  I could be polishing it up right now, but I decided I'd rather join you for a cup of joe here, just breaking down the events of the day.

I hope that's OK.  How was your day?