“Yes,” I nodded. Sometimes I don’t know where to put it.
Usually I, do. Sometimes I rework sentences, words, phrases. I didn’t say
that out loud, because I should, know where commas go. Or don’t, go. All, the
time. Every circumstance. And I really wanted the job.
“Yes, you’re right. It’s way
more than that,” I said, as I wondered what you really meant.
A few years later, endless
stacks of papers. Refills of strong coffee. Mumford and Sons. I check for
commas, among other things—wait, no I need a stronger word—not things. Aspects.
Features. Components. Elements.
Also; Semi colons don’t come
after transitional words. Or in random; places. I thought we talked about that.
So many times. No extra spacing between paragraphs
per MLA format. We talked
about that too. A million times. Quit using hyperboles in academic writing. When
all said and done, clichés take away from your papers.
If I look deep beyond these
issues, sometimes I glimpse something awesome. Wait, not awesome. What a weak,
overused word. I see some great stuff. Not stuff, not great. I get excited for
your future, the people in your life, and for you.
Because really, I only see a
snapshot. A few papers. A few quizzes. Maybe a five minute presentation. I
can’t possibly understand who are you are through these assessments. But
sometimes, every now and then, as I peer through the commas, and squint kinda
hard, I get a glimpse. And it’s exciting. (don’t begin sentences with
conjunction. Unclear pronoun reference)
On days when I am drowning in
papers (hyperbole), I think back to your words, and the gleam in your eye when
you said them.