I have spent all week wrestling Excel and associated data sources to make sense of lists of at-risk students who need to change programmes. As of yesterday they've all been emailed and the plaintive denials are starting to trickle in. Something about the characteristic post-adolescent student state gives them a fundamental disconnect with reality: yes, I failed everything in the first semester, but next semester will be different! of course it will! by sheer force of belief!
Statistically, it really won't.
It's is actually useful, important, strangely satisfying work I'm doing here, but tired now. I propose to play Oblivion all weekend, stopping only to feed first_fallen and librsa supper this evening and possibly to enjoy a nice, refreshing Superman reboot tomorrow, because lingering Superman crush from when I was 16. Also, Zod. Plan.