After 45 minutes of agony with my 8th graders, I walk next door into Peter's classroom to return the English-Hungarian dictionary that I borrowed.
"Was everything okay?" he asks.
Usually I lie, or downplay, but today I don't even smile. "No."
"I thought so."
It is my first day back to school after a week of sick leave.
Maybe this is why I have less patience than usual.
Or maybe, it was Norbi, who hoisted his chair, ready to throw it at Tamás.
It's a good thing I am paid to run intervention.
Some days, I teach.
Other days, I swear under my breath and fantasize about throwing them out the window.
I could lasso them, I think, bundle them all together.
But that would take the pleasure out of tossing them one by one...
My voice is hoarse, and not just from yelling at children. I am recovering from a throat infection, from days of being so sick I didn't leave my bed. After doctor visits in broken English and hungry hours (2 of them, while I was fasting for my labwork) of waiting to give my blood and urine, I was diagnosed with a UTI.
Have you ever had one?
Don't do it.
It feels like (and pardon the imagery, but there is really no other way to put this) a dagger shoved up there.
If you have to do it, keep a couple of things in mind. Don't schedule it at the same time as your menstrual cycle. And do yourself a favor -- get up early enough to take the bus to work. Or walk. Yeah, do that. Whatever you do, don't ride your bike.
It feels like a lot of things, none of them good.
Earlier in the day, I saw Peter in the teacher's lounge. "Have you given the students grades?" he asked me.
At most of my schools, I give the students monthly grades and this factors into their overall grades for English. At this school, on my first day, Peter told me that I could give them grades if I wanted to, but that I didn't need to. I didn't give them grades. I have never given them grades.
Today, however, four weeks before school is out for the summer, I am asked to give them grades.
Can this be reason #3149 that my job is really hard?
That, and I was never given an official class roster for any of my classes. Which means I don't know my student's full names. Do you know how many Balazs' go to this school, only a couple of whom I teach? Lots. So how exactly am I supposed to give them grades? Beats me, but apparently Peter is confident I'll figure it out.
Oh! And can reason #3150 be that I teach a total of 198 (one-hundred and ninety-eight!!!!) students split between 4 (four!!!!) schools?
Quick! I need summer! And quite possibly shock therapy.