Sunday, April 06, 2008

RANT

I have been out of action since Thursday night after meeting up with Jing. Sneezing, wheezing, sniffling, coughing, and the likes. Thankfully, Friday was Sports Day so even if I took an MC (which I did), I won't be missing any classes. Missing classes are bad.

The doctor's diagnosis is that not only do I have flu, I am also suffering from chronic fatigue. He advised me to change jobs.

I told my mum and she laughed right in my face. "You! Chronic fatigue! You haven't even seen the real world, girl."

Why is it that being in the teaching line automatically relegates you to that despised strata, complete and replete with the dismissive and oft-derogatory attitude, "Oh you ain't seen anything." If you guys think teaching is so easy, as R likes to say, come on board, then. Easy money, right?

I would like to expound further and rip away that illusion that most of you have of teachers, that we lead an easy life with 'holidays' and 'going home at 2pm', and 'it's just kids', but I don't have the time. I have observations every single day from tomorrow onwards and of course, it's the best time to fall sick, concussed for the past two days, I haven't done any preparation at all. There are the hated U-Be-Dead lessons plans, endless reading material, worksheets to prepare, and hands-on activities to be carried out in class for the sake of carrying them out.

I always knew my vocation was detrimental to both my physical health and mental state of mind. Not that I can do anything, really. But that's alright - teaching music is really quite fun, but everything else? If anything, I take very small comfort in the fact that only 5.5 years (as opposed to the once-6 years) stand between me and my supposed freedom.

blueprint

I will like to spend my days, as though they are my own, which I mostly end up doing in halves, for duty beckons, and I am answering its clarion call. Soon enough! I am also a veteran procrastinator.

fresh monodies

things are so crazy now
not so much immune, but ambivalent.
the waiting game.
gesticulating wildly, long-suffering continuum
that place one treads
the insidious invisible influenced
restless and in pain = whinge post
the past week or so, of the ties that hold and bind
On another bimbotic but totally unrelated note. I ...
drowsing, and drowning in work, oh franck! you mak...

previous rants

August 2004
September 2004
October 2004
November 2004
December 2004
January 2005
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April 2005
May 2005
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August 2005
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January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
September 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
January 2009
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March 2009
April 2009
May 2009
June 2009
July 2009
August 2009
September 2009
October 2009
November 2009
December 2009
November 2010
January 2011
February 2011
August 2011
October 2011
May 2013

treatises on life

arty jen
betty boop
carmentica
charming-linn
chasing snowy cars
cheeky lynn
cheryliciously glam
clean and cute
cyclist-mad bass
darling dominic
feisty jing
fellow ditz-sista/porkSTAR
hail mary!
hell's kitchen
hero on the beach
h-Euge heart
hunky lenny
lipgloss queen
little cheryl
live n learn, baby
lolita lou
loony loon
mr popular
musically dan
m y s t j
phringe
princess tania
roger smurf
runaway pigeon
sabotage king jeremiah
sibling angst1
sibling angst2
spector dan
spunky tian
steffy bunny
sun-sunzzz
teeny wee-nee
weeeee, leonard!
yangtze yang'en

frivolous pursuits

for shallow ppl
for very geeky ppl
for the truly bored
spun prose
binary thoughts
past imprints
some stamps
montage of images
other memories

mulling over

And there were phlegmatic souls.