Virtual finger tapping

If you don’t pay your exorcist you can get repossessed.
I’m sitting in class while my students write their mid-term test.
I had an annotated bibliography to submit today for the Performa course I’m taking. The bibliography is supposed to be based on ten of the articles I’ve collected so far for the literature review at the end of the course. So I have lovingly prepared a binder filled with articles (well over the required ten), and I figured I would get started on the bibliography and finish it this evening, while I waited.
Then I turned around and the bibliography had somehow finished itself by mid-afternoon.
A plateau is a high form of flattery.
So I turned my attention to preparing a PowerPoint presentation for a workshop I’ve been asked to give tomorrow on the English Exit Exam (a provincial exam that all students must pass in order to graduate from Cegep). I have a short presentation already in the can that I’ve used in my classes before, but I needed to incorporate more information on the requirements of the exam. Again, I figured I could work on perfecting the presentation this evening.
Except that it’s done.
A backward poet writes inverse.
Of course, I have marking – leftover rewrites, a few late submissions, and the rest of the short-answer tests my star pupils wrote last Friday.
Now, in an ideal world, this line would read “but that’s done too!”
Well, it isn’t, because in a moment of sheer brilliance this morning, I left all my marking piled neatly on my desk.
At home.
Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana.
So here I sit, with nothing to do but clean up the comment spam and peruse the jokes sent to me by well-intentioned friends:
A grenade that fell onto a kitchen floor in France resulted in Linoleum Blownapart.