That Time Again

Yep, it's that time again. You know the one I'm talking about. There are about a 5 weeks left in the semester. You're tired and grading constantly. Students are tired and reading and working on papers and projects. They aren't quite at the "I'm having a nervous breakdown in your office" point yet, but you can see it on the horizon. Your colleagues are exhausted and grumpy sitting in too many meetings. All of this leads to the inevitable: one way ticket to The Land of Miscommunication, where all of the denizens either A) stare at each other in confusion; B) continue to re-state (badly) the same idea over and over again, regardless of the respondent's reaction; C) stomp off/mumble obscenities under their breath/leave the room and talk smack about each other. If I could get some more sleep and finish this stack of grading, it would be hilarious. If you're in that mystical, well-rested space, I hope the following examples entertain.

• In a 45 minute conference last week, I worked through a theory article with a student. In that conference, she used two different examples that she thought exemplified particular points in the theory. I explained, very carefully, why neither would work (not least because the first is an annoying chestnut about multiculturalism that drives me nuts). She tried to defend them, but in the end abandoned them. Last night she sent me a copy of her draft. In it, she uses both examples, and now attributes them to the author of the article.
• During a committee meeting today, one member would make a statement (e.g,, "When we last talked about this, we decided that cows were, in fact, mammals). Another member would then turn to me and away from the other member, and dismiss that statement (e.g., "Cows might be mammals, but it's not as if we've decided that as a group"). This happened over and over and over again, for 30 minutes.
• I met with an advisee about today, to discuss her minor. She asked if I had a copy of the 2004 catalog, so that she could look up the requirements. She then showed me how those didn't match the requirements in listed in her file. After 20 minutes of discussion with the department chair and the registrar, I discovered that the advisee is actually in the 2002 catalog, which is, in fact, consistent with the information in her file AND written, quite noticeably, at the top of that file. It should also be noted that this advisee is not a strong student. When I first started working with her, her main interest was horses. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But it may be the case that there's a certain intellectual communion happening there. Evidence for this claim is documented throughout her transcript. This, and several warnings from me, however, are not enough to deter her from taking 20 credits in the spring.
• When I got home this evening, I put together the ingredients for Jamaican jerk pork--crock pot style. After I got it all in the crockpot, I asked Senor Fluff if he thought it was cold enough to leave it out on the counter. "No," he replied, "but we could put it on the back porch." "Forget it," said I. "The rabid squirrels will eat it. Do you think I can fit it in the fridge?" "No." At which point, I proceed to make room for it in the fridge. Senor Fluff expresses surprise: "I thought you wanted to leave it out?"

I could have explained, at this point, that I asked about how cold it was in an attempt to avoid the prospect of arranging the whole refrigerator. I wasn't really bucking for trichinosis for the whole family. But what's the point? Once we've entered The Land of Miscommunication, it's better just to let it go. Don't use your words.