It seems strange to me that after all these falls and springs I still haven't gotten used to how cyclical the world is. I spent the day at home reading student drafts; my feet were cold because I haven't dug out last year's socks, and I worried I'd never have time to write again, and I worried Eva would never nap again. It's this sort of hyperbolic un-contextualized thinking that gets me in roar in my comments to my students. You must expand your thinking about [a given moment], I write in the margins, underlining must, decorating the whole thing with exclamation marks. Step outside of yourself! I say. I'm glad they never call me on it, never yell, When was the last time you stepped outside of yourself, woman?
[The teacher looks down sheepishly, exits stage left.]