Office hours

 

The hours left in my office are few. Today are my last scheduled office hours (which I generally don't hold in my office, but in the atrium space in my building). The last departmental meeting of my career was this morning. Friday is my last class lecture. 

I've written my (final) final exam.

I am noticing all the systems I have set in place to keep me organized, worn smooth over the years.  My teaching bag with its dongles and chalk and dry erase markers. There is a set of molecular models. Tissues for allergies. The vertical slots for each course (and research student) on the shelves by the door. The color coded plastic sleeves: green for general chemistry and blue for p-chem handouts. This morning I slid the last set of lecture notes (nuclear chemistry) into its sleeve, feeling organized and competent and in control. 

It feels odd coming to the moment where I have to dismantle these systems. Empty the cubbies of answer keys and roll sheets. Add the collection of plastic sleeves into the drawer at home that houses the ones I use to organize retreats (pink and yellow and white). Put the teaching bag on the shelf. Red pens. Will I need a red pen after next week?

The work of writing, at least for me these days, is organized in virtual folders, slipped in and out of Scrivener and Pages and Word. Only rarely printed out. Deadlines on the calendar (virtual, too). Will I miss the material culture of this life? Maybe. Probably.