No doubt you, like most others, think the professorial life is all glamor, fame, leisure, wine, and women. That's just what I want you to think with my frequent vacations and the fact there's a good chance I might still be in my bathrobe at 3pm (working at home, mind you). Such perks do have their advantages.
Nevertheless, there's nothing more mind-numbing than, at 1AM, correcting and editing writing assignments filled with basic grammar errors. I can't help but wonder why my dear students didn't learn sentence structure in high-school? Trying to teach basic writing skills--and taking the time to assign and correct writing assignments--may be the most important thing I do for my students. At least that's what I tell myself. But it's not what I thought I'd being doing when I got my PhD. Nor is it fun. Hour for hour, I'd prefer to be policing (does that bumper sticker exist?). So here's to high-school English teachers... or at least the ones that teach good old-fashioned grammar.
And then, just when I start thinking of complaining, I think of what my dad always said about being a professor, "It beats real work!" And you can't beat summers off.
[Update: here's a great link from the comments section: Death to High-School English, by Kim Brooks. And here's my attempt at a solution: Grammar 101.]