For the birds

In an attempt to prevent myself from crying every time I read a paper from a student, I have to laugh. If it is possible to question my choice of profession more with every paper, this group has succeeded in instilling every doubt I am capable of conjuring. Just when I think it can't get any worse, I simply pick up the next paper. Now, I am the first to admit that I can be a lazy waste, but these kids put me to shame. I may be in my pajamas, reading trash on my couch, but I take pride in the fact that I can at least put a sentence together. Something that doesn't seem to bother my students at all. I suppose they can't be bothered with intellect when there are corn hearts and toilets containing scantily clad blow-up dolls to place around town. What I wouldn't give for that kind of creativity in their homework! I still get excited to go to work, but I have accepted that as long as I live in the middle of nowhere, certain things will always be beyond reach. It's hard to mold minds when they are so small! This shit is for the birds...