My left foot

I shall be using it to kick, smartly, the next person who asks me (between now and Monday) if I’m enjoying my summer off.  Leaving aside the whole question of how “off” my summer will be, I’m simply not there yet, for pete’s sake, and with eighteen more papers/finals to go before tomorrow morning, I hear the pitch of my voice creeping into the slightly hysterical zone when I reply to these well-meaning sods.  I find the Snork Maiden’s Bestfriend’s mother, who hasn’t worked for pay since the mid-90’s but seems to find it extremely amusing that teachers get the Whole Summer Off, particularly unctuous in her inquiries.

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