Got to get to school early this morning. You know me, always the professional, punctual prof. (Actually, I AM that way.)

Cross your fingers that I can find the big stack of graded exams I somehow misplaced. I have to get them recorded so I can average this class’s grades so they’ll know their standing.

There are only two places they can possibly be, and I’ve already checked one of them.

If they’re not in the other place, I’ll have to think fast, and on Friday’s, I don’t think very fast.

The worst of it is, I thought I’d already done all of this. I did, with all the other classes. How in the world did I leave this one out?

Because I’m a nimrod, apparently. How could I have lost something so important?

They’re not really LOST, of course. They’re just mischievous, and hiding from me. When I find them, I’m going to spank them. Collectively. You know, punish the whole class for what was probably the decision of one of them.

Gah. Just kidding. I never did that and never would. Such tactics are symptomatic of an instructor who has lost his/her authority AND sense of humor. Without either of these, a teacher is nothing but a sweating adult in a roomful of dictators.

(I’m here at school now, and so are the “missing” tests. Whew. There were right where I put them for safekeeping: in my faculty workroom drawer.( (I’ve found, over the years, that whenever I put something somewhere “for safekeeping,:” I invariably forget and panic.) (Whereas things that are scattered, I can find easily.) (Perhaps ‘scattered’ IS the best system for me.) (No, I can’t live like that.) (Hub can, but I can’t.)