The career

“Mr. Franz, I think careers are a 20th century invention and I don't want one.” 
― Jon Krakauer, Into the Wild

Right now that's  how I feel.  I don't want to work. I don't  want to be tied in a position that I will have to live in for the rest of my life.  I don't  want to be backed into a corner, explaining all my decisions to someone in a higher positon. To someone who doesn't  see me at my best, only my worst.

This past week has had me all distracted. I recently got a promotion at work and now it's  left me all dazed. I am no longer in my zone; I don't  have the energy to teach anymore. There's no laughter in my voice. Every little thing a child does angers or upsets me. Other teachers have noticed this too. No appetite, loss of weight, clumsiness and being unaware of objects/people around me. Many thought it was because of a boy. I did too. That was until I saw my new job description lying on my apartment floor. Performance  will be reviewed. That was it. It was those words that send my mind into a whirlwind of panic. No not panic, more like numbness.

I keep thinking to myself, I am too  young for this. 2 years teaching experience is not enough to lead a team. How can anyone take me serious? How can I support a group of teachers if I can barely support myself?

Apparently I can, as I am constantly  reminded. You wouldn't  have this opportunity if you couldn't  do it. Actually  I realised the reason why I have this position; it's not because I can help others around me, lead and inspire, but because I helped complete a few administrative tasks - something anybody could do. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. There are other teachers better suited for the position and I am constantly reminded of that when I see their face, the change in atmosphere when I enter the room or even the comments to the line manager.

It's  unfair of me to be ungrateful for this role and I simply must give it time, people time to adjust,  and time for me to realise how I can handle this.

The question is: how much time?

Facts of Life

After reading a blog from a father who lost his little boy to a Rhabdoid tumour, and knowing that I lost my favourite aunty in 2011, it came to my attention that the life I'm living is just as short as the 24 hours in a day. Who cares that the end of the world is near. Who cares that the Mayan Calender ended this year. Who cares that a super-volcano may erupt and cause a nuclear winter, block out the sun and potentially kill of the human race one by one. What I do care is that life needs to be lived for each minute in each hour in each day.
It may seem that every time someone dies that I think life should not be taken or granted, but after some thinking I feel as though I need to act on the things I say I will do. So after I publish this post, I will get to work on my "bucket-list". I am aware that I am not dying but what is to say that I wont die tomorrow, or the next day or the next. No one is ever sure. Life is one thing that us humans cannot predict, and even if we could, I wouldn't want to know. How could you live with yourself knowing what was to happen. Even if you tried to change the way it happened, and managed to succeed. Something equally as drastic would just take its place.

Dream a Little Dream...

It's strange how dreams are formed. Whether its formed from a memory, something you have read, or something seen in TV. Mine however combined a character from 90210, Sunderland train station, a story from a friend's wonderful imagination and family members. Now what was that dream you ask?


I was walking around Sunderland station with a very old friend of mine when a sheet of paper on the floor caught my eye. It seemed like a perfectly clear, perfectly square piece of paper. But upon inspection, it had little bits of glitter in the corner. My friend decided to rub the paper and some random guy (from 90210) appeared an explained that he needed a task doing. For me to go back in time and change an event. So my friend decided that this piece of paper also allowed you to choose where you wanted to go. Now for the mode of transport that sent you back in time was the NE Metro. How fancy! On this train was some other friends (who they where I do not know), and they sent me to Newcastle. Soon as I was there, I was getting shot at by thugs in cars, on bikes, pedestrians. I managed to avoid each gun shot and chased a shooter into a little shop. I grabbed him by the throat and asked him what the hell he was shooting me for. Turns out the guy who gave me this piece of paper wanted me killed. Well tough luck! I strolled out of the shop and went over the road to the Police Station where I asked to file a complaint against a killer :S. She asked for my national insurance number (which turned out to be my Student Reference Number). All of a sudden I was back in my normal Timeline. I then found out that the Guy who wanted me killed was handing out these Time sheets to people who knew me to go back in time to kill me. I started shouting and screaming at the Camera men calling this guy a traitor and other expletives:P That guy then came over and said "don't be to hard on me...you know how it is" What a dick. I then tried to find my friends on the Metro Time Machine by using a map similar to the Marauder's Map in Harry Potter. But since they where in a different time line. No such luck. I decided to go home and caught up with my brother. I found out he had one of those Time paper things and he had used it. So I went ballistic and starting shouting at him " Why the hell did you do that for? Don't you ever go back in time. I Don't want things to change, nothing is supposed to change. Things happen for a reason!" ...

And then my neighbour's phone woke me up at 6.37am. Not a happy bunny.  Though I wonder if it means anything... :/ x x