Woke up today with snotty nose and a head that was trying to thump in time to the birdsong outside. Was late getting to school, so much so that I had to ring for a taxi…more expenses and I still haven’t paid the electricity bill. I’ll have to do that tommorrow. I just want to curl up and go to sleep.
I wonder what the discipline consequences of having a slight asthmatic episode in front of a class are? I’m sure I shall find out with 8R next week. Some bint was spraying perfume, next thing I know I had two lads sent out to get Mrs. Holbrook in and I’m running for outside with my inhaler.
‘Are you all right Miss?’ said in tones of false concern by every single bloody pupil that I pass.
No I’m bloody not, I ‘m working in a place I hate doing things with children that I hate because I can’t get them to concentrate for more than ten minutes at a time. I’m shit at what I’m doing because I have no idea how to interest these children, nothing seems to work, bright colours, bribes, writing on the board, not writing on the board. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong but thats largely because I don’t seem to be doing anything right. My discipline is shot to pieces. They don’t turn up to the detentions I give them, they cheek me when I do give them detentions and when I write slips to their head of year they couldn’t care less. They don’t care if I give them house points, sweets or smiley stickers. They don’t want to be in an art lesson; the ones that chose to do art for GCSE didn’t understand that they had to be silent in their exam; the ones that chose to do art for A Level have no experience of drawing because in the lower years no one paid any attention to the teacher; ok I’m exagerating here and putting my own failings onto others.
I’m shit at this job. And my head hurts. The Jellicle gets home today and I’m in need of lots and lots of cuddling.
I’m sure the other teachers think I just couldn’t cope anymore and I faked the asthma attack.
I think I’m becoming paranoid.