I'm pretty sure that this time of year is even worse for the professors then it is for the students.
Homework, by Russell Hoban
Homework sits on top of Sunday, squashing Sunday flat.
Homework has the smell of Monday, homework's very fat.
Heavy books and piles of paper, answers I don't know.
Sunday evening's almost finished, now I'm going to go
Do my homework in the kitchen. Maybe just a snack,
Then I'll sit right down and start as soon as I run back
For some chocolate sandwich cookies. Then I'll really do
All that homework in a minute. First I'll see what new
Show they've got on television in the living room.
Everybody's laughing there, but misery and gloom
And a full refrigerator are where I am at.
I'll just have another sandwich. Homework's very fat.
So, why do they assign it then? Wouldn't it just be better for all involved if they would just lighten up? This is the argument I'm continually making to my oh-so-conscientious resident professor. Or I will continually make it when I see him again in the middle of May.
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