Planet Mad

Yesterday was my eighteenth the-day-before-term-starts day since I became a proper teacher. Every single one of those days, I got into bed, exhausted from an evening spent on last-minute preparation and faffing, and then couldn't sleep. I've spent hours lying in a darkened bedroom, fretting about the impending start of term. What if I can't remember their names? How do I go about starting a lesson? What if they won't be quiet when I want to begin the lesson? How do I explain the intricacies of the UK's balance of payments so that a 16 year old will understand? What if I forget how to talk? This morning I felt like shit. The moment I stepped back into the classroom and up to the whiteboard, it all came flooding back. Teaching today has been successful. I like my job.

However, I'm not so keen on the extra-curricular demands that this job entails: I lose nine Saturdays this term because of school commitments. Nine. Out of a total of ten Saturdays. To say that I am pissed off is an understatement. I need to start looking for a job that lets me reclaim my weekends.