jimlad has left the building.
So..? Who cares? Anyway he is clearly still inside typing away at the computer, the big nerd. If he wasn't such a loser nerd he'd be outside enjoying the sun with a laptop instead of sitting in front of a state of the art computer from 1998. What does state of the art mean again? Oh, I see. I think the phrase I was looking for was solid state. No, this computer is not state of the art. I art stayeth over upon the lodgen time place of Curly Dee this past eve (eve the evening, not Eve the bridesmaid. The olden word usage is designed to encourage a sense of middle age prudency (not middle-aged prudency. we all know what those middle-aged people can get up to, right? (heh heh, yeah... (actually, what do they get up to? I don't actually know (it could be the same as young people got up to in the middle ages (in which case all this qualification is a waste of time and brackets.)))))). I miss programming sometimes, but teaching is much better, which brings me to my main point.
White curtains. Why? I could still be floating around my dreams if the curtains had been kind enough to filter out most of the light coming in from the sun. I enjoy a bit of brown or red light in the morning. It is sort of apologetic even when it does eventually wake you, but no! The curtains are not brown, not red, but glaring in yOuR FACE WHITE! I tell you. Such things are not the concern of Curly "I need to sleep :-(" Dee though. Ah well. The inspiration of many artists and writers comes out of terrible circumstances, so I suppose you should all be happy at getting to read my juicy thoughts as a result of her laziness. But I digress.
jimlad has finally left the school building after one whole enjoyable albeit slightly stressful week. I'm used to stress though (pause for sympathy) (Ok, I'm getting bored waiting), so I really loved it. Also it was a posh school and most of them wanted to do well anyway. Only it was an all girls school. I don't know what they were laughing at, unless they were all geniuses. Sometimes geniuses laugh at maths. They must have been really clever though because they were as giddy as school girls. Supergeniuses, if you will. As one of maybe five men in a school of about sixty teachers and many more schoolgirls I was something of a novelty. Some of the students had never been taught by a man before. The students gave me TWO lovely cards, TWO lovely easter eggs and wrote up nice things on my white board on Friday (Oh no. I think I forgot to wipe the board off when I left).
While I was touched YEAH, touched in the HEAD. Hah HAH Hah. Oh, very funny. While they touched me ALARM ALARM ALARM ALARM ALARM ALARM Stop that. While I was touched by their generosity, and I really like those kind students and would love to teach there again, I can't help worrying about my status as their teacher. It is hard to be strict when the students are so nice to me, but there is no choice in the matter. I am a softy but I will learn. Still, looking back, the main problem was that I was less confident when teaching geography. I knew exactly what I wanted when teaching maths, the subject I was qualified in, which means I knew exactly what I wanted the class to do, no messing. Well, not much messing anyway. I think I will be fine. Mind you, I have a feeling that I won't suffer from students being nice too often in my future stints. Maybe I will get to teach there again.
By the way, most of you probably haven't heard. A week and a half ago I handed in my notice in my customer care job and started one weeks substitute teaching last Monday. It was a posh school and most of them wanted to do well anyway. Only it was an all girls school. I don't know what they were laughing at, unless they were all geniuses. Sometimes geniuses laugh at maths. They must have been really clever though because they were as giddy as school girls. Supergeniuses, if you will. As one of maybe five men in a school of about sixty teachers and many more schoolgirls I was something of a novelty. Some of the students had never been taught by a man before. The students gave me TWO lovely cards, TWO lovely easter eggs and wrote up nice things on my white board on Friday (Oh no. I think I forgot to wipe the board off when I left).
While I was touched YEAH, touched in the HEAD. Hah HAH Hah. Oh, very funny. While they touched me ALARM ALARM ALARM ALARM ALARM ALARM Stop that. While I was touched by their generosity, and I really like those kind students and would love to teach there again, I can't help worrying about my status as their teacher. It is hard to be strict when the students are so nice to me, but there is no choice in the matter. I am a softy but I will learn. Still, looking back, the main problem was that I was less confident when teaching geography. I knew exactly what I wanted when teaching maths, the subject I was qualified in, which means I know exactly what I want the class to do, no messing. Well, not much messing anyway. I think I will be fine. Mind you, I have a feeling that I won't suffer from students being nice too often in my future stints. Maybe I will get to teach there again.
By the way, most of you probably haven't heard. A week and a half ago I handed in my notice in my customer care job and started one weeks substitute teaching last Monday. Aagh, somebody help me! I'm caught in a loop! Help! Help! Help! Help! Oh phew, I think I'm out of it. phew.
Gosh, I'm out of breath now. Okay, better go. Curly Dee has risen, but is apparently rushing off somewhere now. Goodbye.
White curtains. Why? I could still be floating around my dreams if the curtains had been kind enough to filter out most of the light coming in from the sun. I enjoy a bit of brown or red light in the morning. It is sort of apologetic even when it does eventually wake you, but no! The curtains are not brown, not red, but glaring in yOuR FACE WHITE! I tell you. Such things are not the concern of Curly "I need to sleep :-(" Dee though. Ah well. The inspiration of many artists and writers comes out of terrible circumstances, so I suppose you should all be happy at getting to read my juicy thoughts as a result of her laziness. But I digress.
jimlad has finally left the school building after one whole enjoyable albeit slightly stressful week. I'm used to stress though (pause for sympathy) (Ok, I'm getting bored waiting), so I really loved it. Also it was a posh school and most of them wanted to do well anyway. Only it was an all girls school. I don't know what they were laughing at, unless they were all geniuses. Sometimes geniuses laugh at maths. They must have been really clever though because they were as giddy as school girls. Supergeniuses, if you will. As one of maybe five men in a school of about sixty teachers and many more schoolgirls I was something of a novelty. Some of the students had never been taught by a man before. The students gave me TWO lovely cards, TWO lovely easter eggs and wrote up nice things on my white board on Friday (Oh no. I think I forgot to wipe the board off when I left).
While I was touched YEAH, touched in the HEAD. Hah HAH Hah. Oh, very funny. While they touched me ALARM ALARM ALARM ALARM ALARM ALARM Stop that. While I was touched by their generosity, and I really like those kind students and would love to teach there again, I can't help worrying about my status as their teacher. It is hard to be strict when the students are so nice to me, but there is no choice in the matter. I am a softy but I will learn. Still, looking back, the main problem was that I was less confident when teaching geography. I knew exactly what I wanted when teaching maths, the subject I was qualified in, which means I knew exactly what I wanted the class to do, no messing. Well, not much messing anyway. I think I will be fine. Mind you, I have a feeling that I won't suffer from students being nice too often in my future stints. Maybe I will get to teach there again.
By the way, most of you probably haven't heard. A week and a half ago I handed in my notice in my customer care job and started one weeks substitute teaching last Monday. It was a posh school and most of them wanted to do well anyway. Only it was an all girls school. I don't know what they were laughing at, unless they were all geniuses. Sometimes geniuses laugh at maths. They must have been really clever though because they were as giddy as school girls. Supergeniuses, if you will. As one of maybe five men in a school of about sixty teachers and many more schoolgirls I was something of a novelty. Some of the students had never been taught by a man before. The students gave me TWO lovely cards, TWO lovely easter eggs and wrote up nice things on my white board on Friday (Oh no. I think I forgot to wipe the board off when I left).
While I was touched YEAH, touched in the HEAD. Hah HAH Hah. Oh, very funny. While they touched me ALARM ALARM ALARM ALARM ALARM ALARM Stop that. While I was touched by their generosity, and I really like those kind students and would love to teach there again, I can't help worrying about my status as their teacher. It is hard to be strict when the students are so nice to me, but there is no choice in the matter. I am a softy but I will learn. Still, looking back, the main problem was that I was less confident when teaching geography. I knew exactly what I wanted when teaching maths, the subject I was qualified in, which means I know exactly what I want the class to do, no messing. Well, not much messing anyway. I think I will be fine. Mind you, I have a feeling that I won't suffer from students being nice too often in my future stints. Maybe I will get to teach there again.
By the way, most of you probably haven't heard. A week and a half ago I handed in my notice in my customer care job and started one weeks substitute teaching last Monday. Aagh, somebody help me! I'm caught in a loop! Help! Help! Help! Help! Oh phew, I think I'm out of it. phew.
Gosh, I'm out of breath now. Okay, better go. Curly Dee has risen, but is apparently rushing off somewhere now. Goodbye.
posted by jimlad at 8:31 AM
5 Comments:
Best post I've read all week, thankin' you. Go Jimlad.
Stigmund has explained who you are Babette. You are that smiley girl who before going to France lived 160.5m up the road from me who I met through Stigmund, who at the time lived 21164.025m away from me. I measured these distances by meterstick this morning in order to avoid inacuracy now.
Ok. I will respond to your comment after all. Stig says, "Babette? Yeah, she's not a nobody. Talk to her." and so I am. To make up for my snubbery I am going to post a blog post in your honour.
As much as I object to being called smiley, I fully approve of your use of the word snubbery. And the do-age of things in my honour. You have surpassed yourself, Jimperson. And to prove it, I am going to eat some caramel chocolate eggs. In your honour.
Here is a photo Stigmund took of you. :)
See?
I received a post of a blog post that you posted. In the post.
Idiot.
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