While I revel in the relaxation induced by the long paid holidays in which you can once again feel normal of teaching, the pile of unmarked essays in the corner, in the bag, in the boot of the car, even sat on a shelf in the office at school down the road, all stare at me in reproach.

So it was with relief I read on Bunni Blog that I'm not the only martyr to a markbook:

"Part of the problem is they are boring enough to peel the beige paint off the walls. After about two papers, my stomach wants to leap up and strangle eyes so as to prevent the continuing horror. My students complain about their boring read assignments-they have no idea. Last year, I had students actually correct each others papers. At the end, one student looked at me and said, "Are they all like this?" I told her indeed some of them were worse. "That's horrible," she exclaimed, "I had no idea." No horror film yet has been able to induce the disgust I am overwhelmed with when I receive the department mandated "final research" papers."

Until term starts, again.