I fell out of bed this morning. Totally bizarre. I don't think I've done that since I was four or five. It was entirely my fault, in my half-awake daze, as for some reason I started to change my action from getting out of bed to turning off my radio alarm, rather than completing one and then doing the other. Suddenly off-balance, I toppled forward and onto my hands and knees, which have become much more bony than the last time I did this, I expect. I was so surprised, though, that the bruise on my knee didn't stop me from just laughing in amazement at the utter lack of grace I'd displayed, even if only to God and perhaps an utterly embarrassed guardian angel. It was just such a strange moment that I haven't been able to help but think of it in a sort of mild disbelief repeatedly through the day. (The banged knee helps that.) I only wish that it had come from having too much wine with dinner: I'm sure that that might have helped it hurt less.
Oh well, maybe the twinge helped keep me focused through the last bit of drudgery with grading. I've finished grading my final exams and turned in my grades: my official duties of my time at Marquette have now come to an end. I was rather pleased with the results: this is one of the few courses I've ever taught where no one failed the course, although I was bit dismayed early on that too many people were missing more than they ought to have in the raw identification portion of the exam. But they rallied on the short answer and essay questions, and that leveled things off. My vocal atheist edged out the competition to earn the highest grade in the course, and a few students wrote notes at the end of their exam thanking me for the semester (and which, all the more gratifying, didn't seem like grade pandering).