Hiding in Bed with Anna Friel

It's been a hell of a week. Emotions have been running high and stress levels through the roof. But then, that's the trouble with being a teacher.

Last week was the end of term. Our school, being an international college, runs on a twelve week rotation, meaning we change classes every three months. Usually, this is great; a new crop of students, fresh faces and whatnot. Unfortunately, however, I had been spoiled over the last few months with not only the most amazing collection of students I've ever had the pleasure of teaching, but also the greatest co-teacher I could have asked for. 

As such, when it came to saying goodbye last Friday, my usual proudness at a group graduating to the next level was coupled with utmost sadness at losing such a great class. Indeed, I was finally reduced to a blubbering heap by one of the Turkish boys, a man whose enormous size is matched only by his enormous heart.

And so, I arrived on Monday with a feeling of trepidation; much like the first day of school all over again, I wondered what my class would be like, what the teacher would be like, and whether the other kids would like me. And I'll admit, it's been a rough week; the students spent most of the first few days looking at me as if I was some kind of insane kid's TV presenter, or a car salesman not to be trusted. My co-teacher, meanwhile, has gone from a wonderful old lady with a mouth like a docker, to, well... Pretty much the opposite. We all need to get used to things.

But that's the problem with change; yes, it's good. It keeps us on our toes, forces us to encounter new people and new experiences, but it's also big and scary. We all like what we know, and although eventually everything new becomes something well-worn and hopefully well-loved, it takes time and effort, especially when it comes to new people. 

Winning over a class is usually one of my fortés, but this one seems to be taking a lot more work. Coupling that with running around organising birthdays and having nowhere to escape from the cacophony of everyday life, I was delighted to wake up this morning to silence. No shouting, no cars on the street below, no dog barking bitchily outside my door, no hubbub of indiscernible language, just the Sunday morning twitter of the birds in the park.

Having finally got a good night's sleep and waking up, of my own accord, to blissful peace, has revigourated my soul. Finally, after such a crappy week, I feel I can take on the world again... And now the cars have started honking by... Excuse me while I make a caccoon and watch Pushing Daisies for the rest of the day...