Crying in the Staff Room

I can't believe myself. I must have some horrible, walloping kind of PMS because I haven't felt this crappy in a long while. In fact, last time I did I had a sinus infection and jet lag.

Remember that stupid paper my useless faculty leader didn't help me with? Well, there's yet more drama surrounding it. I have to go back and do it again. Seeing as how I didn't know what the hell I was doing with it to begin with, this is not surprising.

One of the deputy head teachers came in to see me about it this morning and before I knew it, I was in tears and telling him, "I have never had support doing these things. That's why I'm leaving."

I couldn't believe I'd said it, but damnit, it felt so good!

I also told him I hate not being able to do my job--I was raised to get the job done and I can't do it here. Then I said, "You know, I didn't even know until yesterday what the last teaching day is!" David told me that I shouldn't blame myself. He told me, "You are a good teacher...we wanted to keep you, so you have to know that you're a good teacher. The fact that you haven't had the help and support you need is not your fault. It's the school's."

Damn right, it is.

Unfortunately, I can't seem to stop crying. I'm 20 minutes into my first lesson and I'm sitting in the staff room typing and taking deep breaths. People are being nice to me, which almost makes it worse. Maybe I'll crawl into the ladies' and calm down.

My useless friggin' faculty leader was also supposed to cover part of my first lesson so I could calm down and guess what? She hasn't shown up. A kid in my room just lobbed a stapler out the door at a passing Sixth Former. Tobias (he's actually one of my kids), came in to tell me this.

Someone else has kindly stepped in to supervise and next week, I'm going to rip new assholes into every child in that class.

Not literally, of course.

I leave England three weeks from today and let me tell you, right this moment, it can't come soon enough.

But, I'll make it through the day, I'll make it through to the end of the term, and I'll happily wave good-bye to this hellish school. I'll miss Burnham but there is nothing--nothing--that could make me stay in this job.

Right. Sian is finally there and I am going to wash my face (my eye makeup is long gone) and continue to breathe.

The world doesn't stop just because I have PMS and a lousy job. Both will be gone soon enough.