Nobody's supposed to be here
Especially not me.
O, how I adore the beginning of term in my life. I'm at the bottom of the college food chain, so I get everyone's leftovers. My first course was a Friday afternoon beginner English class. Well, at least it's full of nurses, who work hard, unlike some other students I could name *coughsecretariescough*. (In passing, everyone go and read Wilt, by Tom Sharpe. Meat One is my life, I sometimes feel.) Then, they saddled me with the intermediate course that they decided to open in the second week. Delightful. Add to that a two-week replacement that is likely to drag on for at least two-thirds of the session, plus the coordination of the HELP centre (totally unreasonable thing to give a bottom-feeder teacher) and I should be spending my evening planning and sweating.
Instead, I read Dominic an extra-long bedtime story, had a nice relaxed dinner with my husband, who I only vaguely recognized as the guy that hogs the covers sometimes, and am now blah-ing to you all. It's eight-thirty and I am only just sitting down to what will likely be at least two hours' work.
Pregnant schmegnant.
O, how I adore the beginning of term in my life. I'm at the bottom of the college food chain, so I get everyone's leftovers. My first course was a Friday afternoon beginner English class. Well, at least it's full of nurses, who work hard, unlike some other students I could name *coughsecretariescough*. (In passing, everyone go and read Wilt, by Tom Sharpe. Meat One is my life, I sometimes feel.) Then, they saddled me with the intermediate course that they decided to open in the second week. Delightful. Add to that a two-week replacement that is likely to drag on for at least two-thirds of the session, plus the coordination of the HELP centre (totally unreasonable thing to give a bottom-feeder teacher) and I should be spending my evening planning and sweating.
Instead, I read Dominic an extra-long bedtime story, had a nice relaxed dinner with my husband, who I only vaguely recognized as the guy that hogs the covers sometimes, and am now blah-ing to you all. It's eight-thirty and I am only just sitting down to what will likely be at least two hours' work.
Pregnant schmegnant.
posted by Coco at 8:24 p.m.
5 Comments:
It took you 24 minutes to write this?
Pregnant schmegnant? Try blog schmog which use to be your attitude until I took the time to hook you up with one. And look at you now. You can't stop blogging. In fact, your little witty andecdotes, creative titles and your fancy spelling of the word center are putting my blog to shame. And well, I just.can't have.that.
Anywho (as I am so fond of saying) I thought you taught ESL? Do you also teach literature? Do they call you Prof. M? Any new foods added to the "cantine" this year?
Respectfully,
Monstah
I just noticed the name of your blog ... Come and suckle some? BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Did you or Monsty come up with that one :-)
Multi-purpose post:
Bravie: Yes. It's the fancy spelling.
Monsty: You created me, Dr. Frankenstein, so just live with it. As for your other queries:
1. I teach ESL when I have to and lit when I'm lucky. This term I am not lucky.
2. Most teachers are called by their first names here in poutineland.
3. I haven't checked. So far, I've been too busy to eat lunch.
Nookie: Three guesses, and it wasn't me.
Hi Coco!
Can I post here? Can I link you? Where have you been? Just because school started, you can't vacate us.
Lvoe,
Momma
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