Yesterday, all the students seemed so far away.
Now a bunch of essays block my way,
My desk is now in disarray.
Suddenly, I avoid the university,
There’s a shadow hanging over me.
The end of term came suddenly.
Why they write so bad? Not a clue, I wouldn’t know.
I taught something wrong, now the errors overflow!
Yesterday, I was free to work on my research;
Now I need a place to hide away.
Instead, I am marking night and day.
All the same mistakes written time and time again!
Seventeen-point scale, fail or pass, but all in vain!
Yesterday, I avoided research like the plague,
All I did was file my notes away…
I want to do the same today.
What will happen now, all the scripts have coffee stains?
Even if they paid, that would not alleviate the pain!
*A Sunday evening tribute to the genius of Sir Paul McCartney, written by one
Idle Busy Ethnographer lost among empty cups coffee and red pens.