I am ready for four hours of TV viewing tonight. Never mind that I have four hours of grading to do as well. Sometimes, kids just need to learn that Mrs. Hillbilly Mom, robot grader (as a student referred to me this morning), has to stop and recharger her battery. So a grade may not be available within 12 hours of turning in the assignment. Boo freakin' hoo! I could have had it all done if not for looking up missing work to send kids scheduled for ISS, and grading work returned from kids sent to ISS, and looking up, parceling out, and grading work from students previously known as absent. Anybody with a bone to pick over Mrs. HM's slackadaisical Wednesday evening schedule might as well chastise the peers who violated the rules and earned a trip to ISS, or those who lounged about at home while WE toiled in the salt mines day after day. Is all I'm sayin' is...to borrow a term from Grammatically Incorrect H.
The season premiere of Survivor, the season finale of Big Brother, and a routinely shocking episode of The Real World-New Orleans await me.