Here I am, deep in the grading mines, and my laptop has decided to expire on me, with intermittent periods of constant crashing interspersed with lulling sessions in which all is working smoothly. I never know when it’s going to behave itself or throw little electronic temper tantrums, the screen going black and then rebooting itself repeatedly.

Grades are all backed up on multiple media, of course, so nothing is lost, but updating those grades has become unreliable, and I’ve also lost several things I was writing to laptop hissy-fits. So I’m reduced to the iPad, which is simply not as good for long writing sessions. Updates here might get sporadic and weird.

The only real solution is that Mary is getting me this for Christmas: Apple MacBook Pro 15.4-Inch Laptop with Retina Display and Force Touch – Intel Quad-Core i7 2.8GHz, 1TB Flash Storage, 16GB DDR3 Memory, AMD Radeon R9 M370X Graphics with 2GB Memory. Isn’t she nice? Unfortunately, there goes all the slack in our budget for the next few years, and also I’m going to have to wait a week to get it.

I’m warning you, I might just lose my mind for a while. How do people function without a big slab of splendid silicon supplementing their existence?

Tomorrow is the last day of the semester. I’m giving an exam, lab reports are due, as are term papers in another class. I’m giving my final exam on Wednesday. I’m done literally teaching until January, but I can’t figure out whether I’m on the easy slide through, or whether I’m about to smack into a wall very hard.

Cynic that I am, I’m guessing the latter.

Oh, boy: our twice-a-year ritual, in which we hand out forms in our classes and let our students grade the faculty. And then, in another yearly ritual every fall, the faculty will gather and peer intensely at the numbers, presented with at least three significant digits, and we will see graphs and charts and over-interpreted analyses of these gnomic parameters.

Unfortunately, they probably aren’t as useful as administrators would like to imagine.

Michele Pellizzari, an economics professor at the University of Geneva in Switzerland, has a more serious claim: that course evaluations may in fact measure, and thus motivate, the opposite of good teaching.

His experiment took place with students at the Bocconi University Department of Economics in Milan, Italy. There, students are given a cognitive test on entry, which establishes their basic aptitude, and they are randomly assigned to professors.

The paper compared the student evaluations of a particular professor to another measure of teacher quality: how those students performed in a subsequent course. In other words, if I have Dr. Muccio in Microeconomics I, what’s my grade next year in Macroeconomics II?

Here’s what he found. The better the professors were, as measured by their students’ grades in later classes, the lower their ratings from students.

“If you make your students do well in their academic career, you get worse evaluations from your students,” Pellizzari said. Students, by and large, don’t enjoy learning from a taskmaster, even if it does them some good.

I also have some reservations about this study, though. What if the Macroeconomics II professor simply shares some biases with the Macroeconomics I professor, and is an easy grader? I wouldn’t want my teaching to be evaluated by how well students do in another professor’s course. That’s as scary as the arbitrary roller-coaster of student evaluations. I’ve had a few students openly downgrade me, for instance, because they know I’m an atheist, and they love Jesus so much.

But otherwise, yes, this jibes well with our general assumptions about the process: grade leniently, give light amounts of work, and students will tend to rate you highly. (They’ll also rate you highly if you’re inspiring and enthusiastic and entertaining, too, so it’s not all a drive to slackerdom).

If you must know, my student evaluations are fine — not the highest at my university, but not grounds for concern (oh, yeah, another thing about faculty assessment of these things: apparently, we’re all supposed to be above average, which simply doesn’t work). I generally ignore the numeric scores, which are mostly pointless noise, but the written comments are often actually informative and let me know what aspects of the course I should change next time I teach it.

Also, I had my students evaluate me on Monday, so I’m saying all this after they’ve had an opportunity to hack at me a bit.

I am 100% done with my grading. My desk is clear. It shines so…I can see a glint of light reflected off the tears in my eyes. Perhaps I will dance, or sing, or raise my arms and eyes to the heavens and shout, “Hallelujah!”

I am totally caught up for the first time this semester.

Do not tell me that next week I’m giving a lab final, an in-class exam, and that I will be getting nine major term papers turned in. No, that’s not happening. If I deny it enough, they’ll all go away, right?

So much snow. So much grading. I need to dig myself out from under both today, so I’m not going to be posting much, even though there’s a few things I’m itching to write about. So, instead, I leave you with some dance moves.

It’s snowing. It’s snowing a lot. It’s also actually rather pretty outside, since I don’t have to drive in it. So I thought, once I got home this evening, that I’d throw the ol’ drone up in there and see how it coped with dim light and blowing snow.

No, it doesn’t. It flies just fine, doesn’t even notice the steady breeze, but the snow piles up on the lens and reflects the red running lights on the machine so you see next to nothing other than bloody red glare. You do get a blurry glimpse of Mary shoveling snow from the sidewalk, though — and now you know who does all the real work around here.

The weather is supposed to worsen over night, and the snow doesn’t end until Tuesday evening. It’s Minnesota, all right.