Mindless Babbling

Half-term, Half-alive.

6414628455_d375efb7ef_o2

My – hasn’t like been quiet over on this corner of the internet. To be honest, I feel like not only have I checked out of the internet for the last 7 weeks, but that I have also in someway checked out of myself. For the last month and a half, if you weren’t a snotty teenager or a snotty teenager’s book, you just couldn’t get an appointment to see ‘regular Bronwen.’ To be quite frank, ‘teacher Bronwen’ has taken over my life. If I’m not teaching, I’m planning what I’m teaching or I’m talking about teaching or I’m being taught about teaching. But, no. No, more. Well, at least for a week.

I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been more excited for a half term in my life, not even when I was in school myself. The idea that I may not have to get up at 6 o’clock each morning for a week, or that I’m about to be blessed with a week where I don’t need to scream at kids or be screamed at by kids, is euphoric. It is also overwhelming bizarre. I spend Saturday sat on the sofa completely at a loss for what to do. And do you know how I fixed the situation? I opened my laptop and rewrote some Year Seven poetry lesson. No, Bad, Stop.

So no more. No school stuff. Well, let’s be realistic. I’ve kind of caught the teaching bug now so… Less school stuff. Never has a week been quite so precious to me and I want to make sure I get the most out of it. Though, I must admit it’s quite difficult to work in relaxing and the one hundred and fifty seven million things I want to get done at the same time. But, alas, I shall try.

This week I want to work on my wellbeing, which is a term I have grown the hate. Wellbeing, wellbeing, wellbeing. It seems the powers at be do nothing but go on about wellbeing and how it is important that I look after my wellbeing and how I should put my wellbeing first, all the while insisting that I write that University assignment and mark those papers and submit that homework. And I’ve spent the last seven weeks looking at those around me wondering how on earth they are managing to balance everything, how they were managing coming to school at 8 o’clock in the morning and leaving teaching behind at 4.20 in the afternoon. My night-time marking has become engrained into my night-time routine, right between watching Bake off and washing my face. At the moment I honestly don’t remember how I fill that time before marking mediocre essays. But no more. I have been told I need to change. I know I need to change. But, you know, those books won’t mark themselves.

5a56bed9bf9a9a4ff957d3bcc32bf8a61

Before I started teaching, someone told me that the education sector was like a cult. At the time I scoff and tutted and shook my head. No, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to sell my soul to the educational Devil. Oh, poor sweet delusional past Bronwen. If only you knew.

The thing is, running myself into the ground and selling my soul has been fine for 7 weeks. I can hide behind the excuses of oh, I’m just settling in or I’ll eventually settle into a routine. Well, the first thing on my to do list is to sort my life out, which I know isn’t a simple task. I need to add some sort of normality into my life, so that ‘teacher Bronwen’ doesn’t completely overpower ‘regular Bronwen.’ I want to get back to reading, get back to baking, get back to writing, and walking, and blogging. And I’m going to use this week to sort all that out.

But despite the stereotypical ramble, I am loving teaching. I honestly didn’t think anything could be so rewarding and ridiculous and horrific and humbling all at the same time. And I can’t wait to see what else it has in store for me.

 Until next time,

xx

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s