You're not fired

But you are.

His Lordship phoned Mr Looms yesterday and informed him that he wouldn’t be returning; nor would he be moved to another school. As far as I could tell, Mr Looms was unlikely to remain here. He’d been whining a lot about the place as if he expected all to be in accordance with his idealised expectations.

Nonetheless, this is another instance of a bunch of irritating 16-year-olds dictating who gets to work and who doesn’t, and Mr Looms has my sympathy. He seems to have rubbed his pupils the wrong way, and their form teacher also seems to have had it in for him. I was wonder whether Class β, who were particular pests early on in the term, might be responsible for his downfall.

Correction. Mr Looms got the boot because of his frequent absences, which could well have been self-inflicted on some occasions. The little darlings probably did complain, but they’re not really responsible for his dismissal. I thought he might scarper during the winter holiday, but he’s returned, and has been spending the term constantly pestering people in the office or, it appears, trying to provoke some sort of rise out of me by being a (smug) dick about something. He wanted to work out his contract so that he might be honourably discharged, but he doesn’t deserve that much, and I predict that no matter where he goes, he’ll continue to annoy people in the same way.

At the end of this term, not only is Mr Bradford leaving, but also Mr Bingley, who’s currently absent. Not sure about the latter, but I did hear his observations hadn’t been going well because the AQMs are inclined to judge someone on whether they’re doing something their way or the wrong way. He’d been doing it the wrong way, apparently.

But to return to over-empowered pupils, I have to be careful as well because of the likes of Χάρις, for example, who is sufficiently poisonous to take umbrage if I push her too far. She’s the sort of pupil who should just be left to sleep because she’s a useless piece of shit. She’d be much better going to some Swiss finishing school (do such things still exist?) and hunting down some thick, but wealthy husband. For her, higher education is a waste of time. In fact, a brain is a waste of time for her.

We had the Χριστmas concert this afternoon. We had to go. We had to perform. We should’ve got that annoying American to come and perform for us since he likes singing songs to his pupils. (The singing American got mentioned on the Shanghaiist just recently. He’s the sort of wanker who gets the natives thinking we’re just here to amuse them. He probably thinks a.) the book is boring and b.) he knows better [even when he doesn’t].)

We have school tomorrow because the Chinese are too stupid to understand the concept of weekends.

On with the usual pre-Christmas misery!