I survived my first term

Well, it's the 28th,  the first day of the Easter holidays which means one thing: I made it.

Coming home wasn't exactly the euphoric experience I imagined it being. Actually, the whole day was one big "for fuck's sake." I woke up at 8 and spent the morning doing my laundry (there was a lot). Then I had to run to the other side of the city to pay the landlady, run back again to sort out office stuff and do the printing before my pre-school lesson.One of which was the Easter activities for the lesson. The other, my boarding pass. Neither would print because for some reason I can't open my Hotmail account on any computer, which is a bugger because my laptop isn't connected to any printer.

And found myself holding it together in class when really I just wanted to scream.



Then I had to move from my window seat, but still, you know, I appreciated it while it lasted.

I hadn't seen a field in two months.

Having to take my sweaty shoes off. Getting chatted up by the cab driver and being able to pull the old "Me no hablo espanol."

Obviously I had to empty my *ahem* carefully packed case again.

Being ripped off by Subway and Starbucks.

Bernard Cornwell.

Like it's cute or something, when really it's like "I have no patience for this, douchebag."

So, how did the teaching week go? Well, I only phoned by boss in tears once ready to bottle an ESO class. Except, I didn't bottle it. The week was "Easter fun" week which I had been excited for for weeks and I wasn't going to miss it.

"What's pascua in English?"

"Shrove."

What? Awwwww.

Actually, hold up a picture of a baby animal, ask what it's called and get a variety of adorable responses:

"Ducklet?"

"Chickling?"

AWWWW IHJKJNOIJZLKA.

Then there was sick burn of the week:

Student: "Teacher, do you like the flag of Japan?"
Me: "It's alright. Why?"
Student: "It has your point."

I didn't understand

HANG ON A MINUTE YOU LITTLE -

Then of course there was the WTF moment of the week.

It's fun just to have fun with the kids.



I know when I go back the rush will start again.

Yes, I came home with the intention of not doing anything teacher-related. Then I realise that that's crap, because even though I'm home in the grey miserable cold comfort blanket that is Old Blighty I need to keep going. I've got to watch a lot of Youtube videos.

I'm reunited with the one I love: Skyrim. And you know what? I feel guilty. Every moment I'm not planning, learning Spanish or anything else is making me feel bad. Perhaps because I know that in terms of "mastering" this job, I have a very long way to go,

Nuts

This cat's not even hanging. This cat has got this.

Let's just skip awkward introductions and get down to it: one of my schools sacked me.

My mum says that when I'm a university academic at my pretentious dinner party I'll laugh about this.

"Hey guys, remember that time that Catholic nun school sacked me? Guys?"

At the moment I'm finding it hard to see the punchline. You're probably asking, why volunteer this information on the internet where future employers, hopefully from diligent-Japan, could easily Google your name and find? Isn't that irrevocably stupid? Probably, but I said, this blog is supposed to be as honest as possible and, as with all bad experiences, there was a lesson to be learned.

I'm not in the business of pretending I'm this flawless person. Trust me, I've tried, and it doesn't always work out. When we write our CVs, we try and paint ourselves as such, but who are we kidding?

And that was probably my problem, an unwavering obsession with being good. And I don't just mean being a good teacher, but a round-the-clock saint.

I couldn't stand that I'd accidentally flooded someone's bathroom, or made someone cry. And this week, I couldn't stand the continuing guilt that I couldn't return someone else's feelings.

And here is my hamartia: trying to make everything right, when sometimes you just can't. The situation is toxic, but you keep returning to it anyway. Take it from someone who once dated the same boy seven times, I never like to just admit that something isn't working out.

I could have just shut down my computer and gone to bed. But I didn't. And yes, I am so, so sorry for that. More sorry than you can imagine. Actually, you definitely can imagine.

It can seem like remedying one situation will make another one more bearable, but if that doesn't work out, and some things depend on the others, everything can just collapse like a card tower.

So I lost it. Not at school. I avoided that.

I've had

And I gave myself a three day headache.

They gave me a calm down


A sleeping pill that made me feel like I was going blind (for future reference it's called ___ and I probably wouldn't recommend taking it).





I spent the day trying to waft away the brain fog. This obviously involved cake and coffee at Roldan's. They gave me two spoons with my slice of red velvet, the jokers.

And then I did. I managed to pull some Easter flashcards out of my arse, and some activities.

I'll take up yoga, meditation, gardening... whatever it takes.




Obviously comes more guilt. I'm a burden. I'm pathetic. I fudge everything up.

Someone whose good points aren't overshadowed by haunting cloud of toxic smog.

Then I realise that that probably isn't true, and I'm grateful. Not just for the lie-in on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, but for the new challenge that this presents. I'm grateful for broken hearts and fuck-ups.

And with every rock-bottom comes the comeback.

It's like make-up sex. Without, obviously, the sex. With children, but hang on a minute, no.

Poppy is the best on hangman. I didn't feel like the best when I was trying to explain the difference between when and how often...

Seven year old students continue to strip off in my class.

"You've met with a terrible fate, haven't you?"

Pay day! And what's the first thing I did? Buy Majora's Mask 3DS, of course.

And I needed it for Spanish Shopping Ordeal No.2...

Bodybell is essentially the Boots or Superdrug of Spain, and for a country that apparently whose economic climate mean a shortage of jobs, they seem to have the privilege of an excess of staff, positioned around the shop to keep an eye on you as you decide whether you want the sanitary towels with wings or not.



Bearing in mind I had already spent 18 euros in Albacete's other Bodybell shop the same day

I should have headbutted her and given her nits

The week that needs an inspirational soundtrack and teaching montage

Three weeks.

This week has really been the pusher. I'm exhausted, but I know I need to push myself as hard as I possibly can. I can burn out at the weekend.

Help out in lessons

I made someone cry

Okay, I'm shitting myself. Because, exams. And I'm still very new to this job. And exams. Exams!

The best thing about being a teacher? You can influence someone's future. The worst thing about being a teacher? You can influence someone's future. You can be the awesome inspiration, or the reason they fail their exams. And is there a country who loves their exams more than Spain? Possibly not. Seriously, these kids do exams all the bloody time.

I'm not infallible. I am human.

I can end the day pretending to be a dinosaur

The best inspirational music (it's mostly Disney, because obviously)

1. The Pokemon theme (Gotta teach 'em all)

"YOU TEACH ME AND I'LL TEACH YOUUUUUUUU!"

2. The Skyrim theme

Because I want to be Dovahteacher.

3, Try by Dolly Parton

Because I love a bit of cheese, and not just as the basis of every single meal I eat,

4.

5.


And finally...

I sometimes watch this before class. Especially if I know that class is full of screamers:

The balance

Leaving parties early to do cleaning and lesson planning is depressing.

On the plus side, my Spanish 23rd is going to be awesome. It's on a Saturday too. And not in term time. Venga.....!

Put your armour on

Despite the stress, I've met some of the nicest people here.

Like the man in the bookshop said, it's like surfing!

Complaints

I ate sausage. I sort of knew it was sausage. But I didn't care.

I'm sort of on a reverse lent.

I'm putting on weight like it's no-one's business. Not like it is anyone's business. Mind your own business.