May 17, 2002
It Happens Every Spring
It's spring in the academic village, and once again my thoughts turn to summer. I think of those long, delicious months when, without the telephone ringing and student papers sitting on my desk ungraded, without faculty meetings and office hours, without classes to prepare, I'm free again to work exclusively on my own writing. My e-mail messages will dwindle to communications with a few good friends. Some mornings, I might even sleep in.
But spring also brings with it a small feeling
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