Oh my...
I'll start with homesickness. The definition of homesickness (according to dictionary.com) is:
Acutely longing for one's family or home.
And I am.
I know I'm just going through a temporary glitch, but oy, it's a difficult glitch. I feel like I'm madly trying to claw my way out of it.
I'm not unhappy with England. I'm just really missing home--big things and small things. The big things are obvious. Mom and Dad. Friends. Millie (oh, my goodness, I miss her a lot). Then there are the little things. Mexican food. My DVD collection (I'm already reserving one day of my time at home at Christmas to watch all 10 hours of Band of Brothers, all two hours of Miracle and whatever other movies I fancy).
So, this week has been one of homesickness and battling back tears. Not a fun week, really.
Work is fine. I have been kind of "blah" but not about the kids. I'm making headway with all of my classes (but one--more in a minute about that), so I'm happy about that. I'm getting along with my co-teachers, and even had a nice compliment from the Head Teacher. He said to me, "We ought to hire more American teachers, if they're all like you!" I was flattered. : )
Anyway, that one class. Friday, fifth period. Last class of the week. Good grief...that mix of children is awful. I have never had much control in there, unless I send about 3 kids out of the room. This week, I sent for Teresa, the art teacher next door. She came in, and she couldn't get the kids calmed down. She's pretty formidable, too. So she sent for a member of the Senior Management Team, and one of the Deputy Heads responded. Trouble is, he's new to the school this year, too. So the kids (year 9) test him, as well.
I was so fed up with this class, I could feel my face getting red, and I just wanted to walk out of my room and march straight into the Head's office and say, "Right. I refuse to teach that group." I was so frustrated, and so tired, and not feeling well, and homesick on top of it all. I seriously had moments during that class in which I thought, "Gee, I could be in California, with my cat, off to teach the Elverta kids right now..." I wanted to be anywhere but teaching that group of kids.
I made it to the end of the day. The bell rang, I dismissed the little hellions. The deputy head (David--same name as the Head) came back and asked how I was doing. I looked at him and said, "This is the most frustrating group of children..." and then I started to cry.
Now, if you know me very well, you know I hate to cry like that. As my dad is fond of saying, "There's no crying in baseball." Well, I broke that rule. I stood there in a corner of my room, with a flustered Deputy Head teacher trying to comfort me, bawling. I told him, "It's not just this class. It's just been a difficult week for me. I'll get over it," as I snivelled and cried and used the pitifully small ammount of tissue I had to wipe up the mess.
Not pretty.
David left me to calm down (if he'd stayed I never would have) and I spent 15 minutes or so in a corner (where people can't see me if they walk by my room), calming down. Deep breath. Tears. Deep breath. Reprimand self. Think of happy thoughts. Millie comes to mind. Miss her. Cry more.
Finally, I had to leave school to run home for some trousers. I had a few things going on that afternoon/evening:
1. A little do in the staff lounge in honour of new staff (really just an excuse to drink).
2. A night out in Chelmsford with some of the gals.
I had forgotten my trousers to wear when out on the town, so I walked home, calmed down, had some chocolate, and got back to school able to speak without crying, and with my eyes no longer red and swollen. I had some wine and cheesy poofs (Heather's and my remedy for days like this) and then headed off to Chelmsford with the gals.
Chelmsford is about 45 minutes away by car, and there are a lot of younger teachers at St. Peter's who prefer to live there because it has shopping and a night life. After seeing the commute they make, I figure I'm happy where I'm at!
We had a lovely dinner at an Italian place called Gerardo's. We all ate too much, but it was really lovely. Then we stopped by an Irish pub called Sweeney's, then on to Toad. Toad is a bar/dance club and it was crammed to the gills with scantilly clad Essex Girls and Essex Boys. And not the greatest atmosphere...so it was on to Chicago's, which was definitely better. But still crowded.
I think I've outgrown the whole noisy, crowded, hormone-filled, loud music, drink to the excess kind of places (not to mention the SMOKE!!) other people my age still enjoy. I found myself wishing we were somewhere that we could
a. talk without screaming,
b. walk from point A to point B without coming into rather intimate contact with total strangers, and
c. sit down and relax rather than dancing like loons and trying to attract the opposite sex with our moves.
When did I grow up?!?
Overall, I had a good time. The gals were really nice and I would definitely like to spend time with them again. Perhaps somewhere quieter.
I spent the night at Aideen's house. Aideen is Irish, and quirky, smart, funny, slightly strange, generous, and fun. She's also new to St. Peter's and is very unhappy teaching there. She plans to give her notice and leave at the end of the fall term.
Yesterday I caught the bus back to Burnham, and spent a couple of hours showering the smoke out of my hair, eating lunch, and reading. At about 1:30 or 2:00 I decided to read upstairs and possibly nap for an hour or two. After 15 minutes of reading, I was ready to fall asleep. I vaguely thought to myself, "When I wake up, I'll walk down to the co-op for my groceries..." and then settled into my peaceful nap.
Six hours later, I woke up. It was dark out and I was disoriented.
I slept for SIX HOURS!!! I never nap like that! Hell, that wasn't a nap, that was hibernation!
I got up and went downstairs. Kathy and Derek were just wondering if I was sick, but were relieved to find that I was okay. We all figure that was my body's way of getting rid of the stress of the week. By now it was 8:30 so I had a snack, read until 11:00, and went back to bed. Slept for 8 hours. I feel great today!
So it's Sunday, and instead of going to London, as was my original plan, I'm doing laundry and going to the co-op. I've given my room a good dusting and vaccuuming, and I'll relax this afternoon with a good book.
Next weekend: London. Nothing's stopping me!!
Here's to a better week. Cheers!
Meg
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