The first weeek [sic!]

The draag. [Etiam sic!]

Thanks to our start last Sunday, every day this week has felt like tomorrow, and apart from today, none of them has had the tomorrow I actually want.

The first week has been the usual clinging on for dear life because we have little or nothing to amuse the little darlings. We turned up at school last week, but were hampered by being the only people at school. Couldn’t get any large-scale photocopying done because Mr Photocopy wasn’t there. I think that I really need to do something at the end of this academic year so that I have material for the start of the following term and thus don’t need to do anything. By then, I ought to know what I’m teaching the following year.

I lost another couple of students to classis inferior today. One should’ve stayed in my class, but the other was probably on my list of C-students who shouldn’t be in classis superior because she is, in truth, shallow and vacuous, and believes that every class should be some kind of party. She should skip university and simply be part of the local equivalent of the Season, shagging her way through a bunch of eligible boys of comparable emptiness until she finds one who can pleasure her twice (with his boots on). She should then marry him and live a life of satisfyingly idle vacuity. And if she really must be educated, I’m sure finishing schools still exist.

A week of Ms Giggles seems to be driving all of us up the wall. She’s loud, she’s intrusive, and she deserves to be teaching classis inferior. She always has to have her say even when it doesn’t concern her. She’s clearly ambitious because she bothered replying to a mail message about a senior position even although she knew she wouldn’t be in the running. (On the other hand, she’d no longer be in the office.) There’s also an underlying religious dimension to this even if it is largely invisible, but like some of my former colleagues, I suspect that Ms Giggles believes (subconsciously) she’s bringing en­light­en­ment to the heathens.