I went for swim first thing in the morning just after 7.00 am, long before I went to school for the start of the new year. I felt that such a demonstration of masochistic self denial was a necessary sacrifice to whatever gods there be to make the commencement of education as I know it a little more acceptable.
I needn’t have bothered. After the effusive greetings were over reality took over and we were subjected to one of the meetings for which our school is justly famous. A short opportunity for a cup of tea and then another meeting which overran its time by over half an hour. Immediately after that meeting another which ran into lunchtime.
The good thing about the last meeting (apart from the fact that it was directly relevant to me as it was a departmental meeting) was that it was at least in English. The other four hours were in Spanish with various lapses into Catalan.
It is rightly said that the normal period for reasonable concentration in these situations is twenty minutes. When that concentration is in a foreign language then the time is much less. My brain had the consistency of over-cooked cauliflower by the time I staggered to lunch.
At least we had poached salmon which made up for my previous suffering in part; only in part!
After lunch I reverted to the normal occupation of a highly trained professional teacher and searched through the stacks of cardboard boxes from publishers containing the book orders sent off at the end of last term. To make our work just that little bit more complex some publishers had filled some boxes with a variety of books destined for different departments. I found one copy of one of our books sandwiched between books for the French and Spanish departments. This way it is going to take some time before all the books get to their correct subject teachers.
May I take this opportunity of thanking the packers in the warehouses for their contribution to the stress free atmosphere which is a characteristic of the start of term.
My timetable is horrific with my starting to teach at 8.15 am three days a week - and just to remind you that we finish at 4.45 pm. Oh joy!
My fear that the history of art classes would have disappeared from my timetable is not quite correct, but the form they take may change by the time I actually come to teach them. In a positive way, I trust!
The layout of my lessons is not useful and seems almost designed to be stressful. The only positive element that I can see is that with the accrued time I gain by starting early I can take the last period on a Friday as my compensated time and leave early.
The fortnight we had to prepare for the start of the year last September had been reduced to four days this September; and we start teaching on Tuesday. Dear god.
As pure displacement activity I have had two swims since I have come home. And the water in the pool is getting no warmer.
Tomorrow, as far as I can tell, I have only one incomprehensible meeting which is supposed to last a single hour (sic) and then I can get on with my own academic preparation.
We will see.
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