If you’re a visual kind of person, my boredom looks like this:

I call this “Ennui Selfie”

The last essay that I graded took 42 minutes. These were not critical, introspective, rich with feedback sort of minutes. These were painful, watching my nails grow, watching paint dry sort of minutes. Throughout the grading process, being waterboarded sounded better than reading another essay about light and dark in Heart of Darkness (admittedly, grading papers has a way of warping my perception of reality).

Here is an inventory of the last 42 minutes.

6:13-I move onto Laura’s* paper. She’s not a bad writer. Middle of the pack. Good organization, standard ideas. This means I feel a little uninspired. It’s not brilliant analysis that keeps me riveted, and it’s not so terrible that I have so much genuine concern about her future, well-being, home-life, and career. I spend about 3 minutes deciding that my Cider House Rules Film Score Radio Station is not cutting it, because it’s failing to motivate. I try “The Album Leaf” Pandora station instead. It’s demotivating techno. I settle for Ratatat. The loud downbeats tell me when it’s time to read the next word.

6:18-I read the intro paragraph for the third time. I was not actually reading it the first two times. I mean, my eyes were passing over the material. But I’m a sponge with the layer of plastic still on it. Not yet absorbent.

6:19- I try the intro again. It makes sense this time. I make a hyper-specific comment about her thesis statement and feel good about myself. I deserve a break. I definitely deserve a break.

6:22- After deciding how I want to spend my break, I decide to utilize it by dropping my pen from about three inches off the desk over and over again. Productive.

6:25–Essay vs. Penrod Round 2. First body paragraph. First body paragraph one more time. A few comments; “Beware the Passive Voice!” I also doodle a horrified face in the margin. As though Passive Voice actually concerns me. Really, the horrified face is just mimicking the face I am making as I think about seven more pages of this essay (not that it’s a terrible essay. It’s just… an essay.)

6:32- I realize that somewhere in here I subconsciously wandered onto Facebook and updated my Facebook status four times about how bored I am. I try again with the essay. There is more passive voice. But the author has arrived at a good point.

6:45- I am both reading the paper and hoping someone likes my stupid status on Facebook. Wandering eyes makes grading slower.

6:46- I take another subconscious break and cross my eyes a bunch. How long before it starts to hurt my head? If my head hurts, is that a justifiable reason to skip grading papers for the night?

6:47-I promise myself that if I get through this paper, I can reward myself with a blog.

6:48- I start again with the paper. I’m motivated by the extrinsic reward. Two pages. Bam. I’m now officially proud of myself. I am an accomplisher of things!

6:50- Thinking about my accomplishment takes a minute. Is undercut by the fact that I actually have one page left of the essay to grade.

6:51- Take the “Ennui Selfie.” Because it’s obviously important to remember this moment.

6:52- Switch to my “Queen” Pandora Station. The Big Guns. Force myself. DO IT SIERRA. Admittedly skip a body paragraph (or two) and jump to the conclusion.

6:55–Slam the essay closed, scribble a pithy comment and a grade on top, do a victory dance to Mika’s “Fat Bottomed Girl” and look at the ponderous stack of essays I have left.

At this pace, I only have 1,648 minutes to go.

I love my job. I love my job. (Write it!) I love my job.