Teaching online is hard. Harder than face-to-face by a lot, because all the energy shared in the room is lost, and I never get to know my students apart from how they respond to assignments. Yet the flow of work does not change. I still have all the prewriting for eighty final essays to grade this week.
With so much to do, I need razor-focused concentration. My music is playing. My coffee is sitting on the table next to my school-issued laptop. My blinds are drawn to prevent me from looking out the window at the people walking dogs and the cars streaming by.
I’m not working.
I read a few lines and then my mind wanders. Wanders to Luke, wondering how he’s doing with his classes this week. If he’s struggling to concentrate like I am. If the memory of our date lingers in his mind.
He want
