I am a bit grumpy today
I'm cold, and while I know I ought to go over to the house and strip wallpaper, the idea is not in the slightest appealing to me. It's sort of one of those days. Actually, I think it might be one of those weeks.
Sunday evening dad sliced his wrist open when a plate smashed in the sink while he was washing up. Cue mad dash of him and Kay to the A&E at 11pm. Apparently bleeding profusely gets you seen far faster than being in untold amounts of pain. I'll have to remember that next time.
Monday morning, dad couldn't ride his motorbike because of the stitches, and I needed the car for work, so I had to go with him to work (oh god oh god his driving makes me have panic attacks) and then take the car home (oh god Brackmills, why must you suck so much) and then go to work (oh god, student, why don't you tell me that you're not turning up).
Yesterday was student being pissy, student not showing up (the same one, who did then text to say she was sorry she hadn't told me that she wouldn't be in), and then student being pissy and rude to the lecturer by doing research for another essay while he was trying to lead a discussion on Ezra Pound's poems. I mean, I have no great love for Pound, but she knows about manners, we've had discussions about them, and she has plenty of time to get her essays done without being quite so rude.
Today is a suprise day off due to student not being in, which makes up for the fact that tomorrow I have to go in, no doubt be stood up by a student, then cover a midwifery lecture for which I have had the disturbing content warning and "we can provide counselling afterwards" talk when I went to the office the other day. And then 3 hours of sitting doing nothing. Woo.
I'm getting a bit fed up of the way that lecturers are now basically telling students everything that needs to go into an essay, almost to the point of a paragraph by paragraph breakdown. In the first year, for the first couple of essays, maybe, to get them into the swing of things, but these are second years now, and if they don't know how to construct an essay and how to analyse a piece of text, then I think all hope might be lost. And it's not like the grading is really harsh, most always seemed to come out with at least a C- last year. It seems to be more the English department that does it, and that makes me feel even worse, as we never got that sort of help when I was at uni, and it feels like these people are going to come out with higher degrees, having done less work than me, which sucks.
The up side of today is that I have Panga the panda back. She is all shiny and without dents or a buckled wheel rim. And I now owe dad £250 and we have to have a 'talk' about money. I may be hiding upstairs later. I suspect a steep rise in rent is coming my way, or the announcement that I will be getting a housemate when I move back. Joy.
There are goldfinches on the feeder again, and I'm thinking I should go and get garlic bread for dinner and maybe forage for some lunch. And then there is to be an Iron Man watching session.
And maybe I will remember to do the tiny bit of work typing that has been sitting on the table all morning looking sad and pitiful.
And I should probably crack on with NaNo, as I've not written anything since saturday. oops.
Sunday evening dad sliced his wrist open when a plate smashed in the sink while he was washing up. Cue mad dash of him and Kay to the A&E at 11pm. Apparently bleeding profusely gets you seen far faster than being in untold amounts of pain. I'll have to remember that next time.
Monday morning, dad couldn't ride his motorbike because of the stitches, and I needed the car for work, so I had to go with him to work (oh god oh god his driving makes me have panic attacks) and then take the car home (oh god Brackmills, why must you suck so much) and then go to work (oh god, student, why don't you tell me that you're not turning up).
Yesterday was student being pissy, student not showing up (the same one, who did then text to say she was sorry she hadn't told me that she wouldn't be in), and then student being pissy and rude to the lecturer by doing research for another essay while he was trying to lead a discussion on Ezra Pound's poems. I mean, I have no great love for Pound, but she knows about manners, we've had discussions about them, and she has plenty of time to get her essays done without being quite so rude.
Today is a suprise day off due to student not being in, which makes up for the fact that tomorrow I have to go in, no doubt be stood up by a student, then cover a midwifery lecture for which I have had the disturbing content warning and "we can provide counselling afterwards" talk when I went to the office the other day. And then 3 hours of sitting doing nothing. Woo.
I'm getting a bit fed up of the way that lecturers are now basically telling students everything that needs to go into an essay, almost to the point of a paragraph by paragraph breakdown. In the first year, for the first couple of essays, maybe, to get them into the swing of things, but these are second years now, and if they don't know how to construct an essay and how to analyse a piece of text, then I think all hope might be lost. And it's not like the grading is really harsh, most always seemed to come out with at least a C- last year. It seems to be more the English department that does it, and that makes me feel even worse, as we never got that sort of help when I was at uni, and it feels like these people are going to come out with higher degrees, having done less work than me, which sucks.
The up side of today is that I have Panga the panda back. She is all shiny and without dents or a buckled wheel rim. And I now owe dad £250 and we have to have a 'talk' about money. I may be hiding upstairs later. I suspect a steep rise in rent is coming my way, or the announcement that I will be getting a housemate when I move back. Joy.
There are goldfinches on the feeder again, and I'm thinking I should go and get garlic bread for dinner and maybe forage for some lunch. And then there is to be an Iron Man watching session.
And maybe I will remember to do the tiny bit of work typing that has been sitting on the table all morning looking sad and pitiful.
And I should probably crack on with NaNo, as I've not written anything since saturday. oops.