Marking? It’ll be done in just a tick

Source: Miles Cole

6.30am
Alarm goes off. Allow self one hit of snooze button before leaping out of bed to Get Marking Done.

7.58am
Get out of bed.

9.42am
Finish checking emails. Make cup of tea.

9.50am
Sit at desk looking at stack of 65 essays. Sort through them. Organise into piles according to question tackled.

10.03am
Reorganise them into piles by assessment number. Ascending.

10.14am
Open assessment coversheet template on computer. Fill in blanks. Copy and paste 65 times. That’s 65 x 2,200 words.

10.18am
Find calculator.

10.19am
Sigh.

10.am
Pick up first essay. Fold back coversheet. Read opening paragraph. Realise impossible to mark without fresh tea. Pop to kitchen. Dog trots in behind me. Play ball with her until kettle boils.

10.51am
Take tea to desk. Reread opening paragraph. Correct a split infinitive, two apostrophes and a character’s name. Add a tick. Lone tick looks unkind. Add second tick.

10.57am
Finish annotating page one of essay one. Each essay: around six pages long. If each page takes six minutes, essay will take 36 minutes. For all 65 essays, this is…

10.58am
Find calculator.

10.59am
Sigh.

11am
Turn to page two of essay one. Promise self will have packet of Iced Gems when first five essays are marked.

11.29am
Finish marking essay one. Go to kitchen to find Iced Gems.

11.30am
No Iced Gems in house. Contemplate taking up smoking instead. Pros: would punctuate marking and get me out in fresh air. Cons: might kill me; would cost a lot of money; air wouldn’t be “fresh”; might kill me. Decide to emulate James Caan in Misery, whose Lucky Strike and bottle of Dom Pérignon wait for last line typed. Remember Misery hobbling incident. Reassess plan. But now thinking about champagne. Find bottle of Waitrose Prosecco in fridge. Put it on corner of desk as motivation. Turn to page one of essay two.

12.20pm
Daughter comes downstairs. Looks at Prosecco on desk. Looks at me. Walks away, muttering one of limitless stock of “I worry about you, Mother. I really do” phrases.

12.28pm
Finish essay two. It has taken me literally hours. (Not literally.) Marking is clearly feasible only if punctuated by social networking. Open laptop. Make remarkably witty Facebook status update involving Dante, circles of hell and marking. Wait for friends to “like” it. While there, worry that haven’t recently “liked” sufficient numbers of friends’ posts. Go on “liking” extravaganza: one friend’s endearing puppy; another’s book cover; the artfully close-up dewdrop on a rose petal Instagram of a third. Accidentally “like” post by friend whose cat has leg in plaster after being hit by car. Don’t want to “unlike” in case sends wrong message but “like” sends wrong message so send Facebook message explaining what message I meant to convey.

1.19pm
Lunchtime.

2.29pm
Open essay three.

2.31pm
Put kettle on.

2.39pm
Read first paragraph of essay three.

2.41pm
Put sympathetic tick. Turn to page two. Wonder what colleagues are doing on sunny Sunday. Watch dandelion clock drift past study window. Unplug laptop and take it and half a dozen essays into garden. This is serious. This isn’t just a place to mark. This is a Marking Station. Pleased with efforts, resolve to start properly at 3pm and to work through until 8pm. Go inside to make fresh cup of tea.

2.58pm
Open essay three at page two. Wait.

3pm
Begin Proper Marking. This is Extreme Marking. This is Total Marking. This is the Mother of all Marking. I am a Marking Machine. Marking doesn’t get Tougher than This.

3.03pm
Correct a misplaced apostrophe. Imagine Novelist Colleague sitting in his study finishing another novel. Picture him typing frantically. Reject picture: he probably writes longhand, in a Moleskine, with a fountain pen. Look at my biro. Wonder whether marking would have more gravitas were I to mark in Proper Ink. Wonder where my fountain pen is. Wonder why I don’t use a fountain pen all the time. Wonder if I’m a Proper Intellectual. Decide I need to write in proper pen. It could become a thing I do. I could be known for it in the department. Students would whisper to each other in awe at exquisite annotations. Watch another dandelion clock saunter past on warm breeze. Take moment to close eyes in Sunday sun.

5.11pm
Husband wakes me with cup of tea. Asks how long I’ve been napping for.

5.12pm
Say “About an hour”. Husband raises left eyebrow. I study teacup.

5.14pm
Kindly but firmly reprimand husband for distracting me from marking. Pointedly turn to fourth page of essay three. Husband walks away, shaking head.

5.15pm
Decide to check emails in case something crucial has arisen.

5.17pm
Nothing crucial. But email from Head of Department about workload planning. Read email. Plan Monday’s workload. Will mark at least half of essays. Will wake early, find fountain pen, walk dog and be at desk by 9am. Will then mark solidly until light lunch, followed by afternoon marking until suppertime. Monday will be super-productive. Monday will see All of the Marking taken down.

5.55pm
Planning Monday has exhausted me. Decide to call it a day. Will take down essay three like it’s Monday already.

6.29pm
Finish essay three. Happy that student has done well. Really well. Good place to stop for day. Quickly check emails. Student with imminent Renaissance Lit exam has emailed: “hi emma. if you have time please could u tell me why does Milton feel the need to ‘justify the ways of God to men’? :) thanks x”. Fifteen possible replies come to mind. Decide to recommend specific reading. Should take only five minutes.

7.14pm
Finish replying to student’s email. Close laptop. Move al fresco office back indoors. Meander into kitchen in search of wine. Husband announces he’s marked seven portfolios and two presentation scripts.

7.16pm
Put usual wine glasses back in cupboard. Take out approx one-pint long-stem goblets given by father-in-law. Realise he understands more about being an academic than previously grasped.