Hot day, another day.

This one worse than yesterday.  Woke again at same time, 7:03, but tired going back to sleep.  Unsuccessful.  Desk, 7:52.  Kids up and watching Scooby again, eating breakfast.  They asked, or Jack did, what I’m getting them for breakfast this morning, thinking I’d do something like Skillets like yesterday, or go up the Road to Piner as we infrequently do.

Have to get to grading today.  Just ten submissions, that’s all.  Log them as best I can.  Only reason I’m teaching is for the money, that’s it anymore.

Found a typo in something I posted yesterday.  I tell and consistently semester to semester urge students to edit more their work and I don’t the same practice.  Something else to target in this 365 project.  Told self I’d leave the error there, as a form of self-scold, but couldn’t resist.  Changed it, “Han” to “than”.

Started going through emails.  Going to develop a more fluid and immediate form and style of grading.  One that’s a benefit to students as well as self.

Shit, forgot I need to get little Kerouac more cereal, and orange juice.  I find the psychology of their dependence and assumptive language interesting.  Meaning, they are sure I will get them something for breakfast when requested… I WILL refill that cup with orange juice.

8:10am….  More coffee.  And I am clearing this fucking desk, and never coming back.  TABLE, this TABLE.  It is not a desk.  And as I’ve said before, not a table either.  Why do I keep coming back. Why don’t I write on the couch like a “real writer”.  Inner voice and its harshness valuable this morning.  

Sick of the home coffee, want a latte.  Any chance to escape the house, even if for 15 minutes.  Music, windowless, air, just me.