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Posts Tagged ‘life’s a bitch and then they contest the will’

So I was supposed to be going on an excursion today, and instead I’m supervising a group of loud, obnoxious Year 9 kids.

Wait, let me backtrack.

I’m not even supposed to be at work today.  Some weeks ago, I was asked if I could come in on my day off to be an extra person on this excursion.  Paid, of course, but still my day off, and requiring me to organise something for But Why and Bamm-Bamm.  But I was asked nicely, and so I agreed to do it for this one day.  After all, a nice trip outdoors, an interesting presentation… it was going to be a good day.  I was looking forward to it.

And then it all got changed at the last minute.  One of the other teachers wanted to take his class, and so everything got shuffled around, and instead of going on the excursion, I was now backfilling his classes – a full, six-on day, no less.  Nobody actually really asked me, mind you, I was very much just informed after the fact that everything had changed.  Typical.  After the screwing over I got last year, why should I even be surprised that it’s happened again?

Thing is, had I been asked to do what I’m presently doing a few weeks ago, I would have answered with a resounding NO BLOODY WAY.  I did three terms of replacement-class bullshit last year after coming back from maternity leave, when I was screwed over after no classes were assigned for me, despite me being present for three quarters of the school year (so they had no excuses there, in my opinion.)  It nearly destroyed me as a teacher, and I’m not exaggerating that in the slightest.  After months upon months of backfilling and wrangling belligerent teenagers who weren’t even my charges, killing time with no classes of my own and no real purpose in being there, I genuinely stopped caring.  I turned up, I sat in the classes I was assigned, I gave the kids the work they were supposed to do, and I sat on my arse, not caring.  From April to December, that was my world.  Turn up, get handed a bunch of class lists, drag myself around like a soggy mop all day, go home.  I stopped bothering with my appearance.  I wore whatever clothes I happened to grab in the morning.  My usual baseline cynicism escalated tenfold.  I was, for all intents and purposes, quite depressed at work for most of the year.  (I hasten to add that this did not extend to home – that was very much my sanctuary.)

And here I am again, faced with a day full of exactly what I hated about last year, and all because I agreed to do a favour.  And a different favour to what I’m actually doing!

I’m so tired of being treated like a thing.

This year was supposed to be different.  I started so well, with energy and enthusiasm.  Things have happened which have served to sap that energy and dull that enthusiasm already, but I’m overall considerably happier in having my own classes again.  I need this year to be positive, because I can already see so many difficult times looming before the close of 2014.  I need positivity, I need things to look forward to in order to get me through the parts of this year that are going to hurt like hell.  I have come to philosophical conclusions about certain things that paint them in terms of this need for positivity.  But I’m still here, sitting in this Year 9 Maths class, resenting every second of it because it just feels like last year all over again, and I want to run away, go home to Ralph and the kids and cry a river because they made me feel these feelings again.

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