Still Grading

Some nights I think to myself, "If I have to grade one more paper, my brain might just ingloriously burst out of my skull in a sputtering voluminous volcano of membrane and gray matter, splattering the ceiling with years and years of grammatical unworthiness, leaving misplaced modifiers slithering down the walls like my forgotten dreams of being useful to society."
 And then, I pick up my pen again.