noideadog: (Default)
Paul Gliceas and I had dinner last night with Tomoyuki, a Japanese student visiting Dublin very briefly on his eight countries in two weeks type tour of europe. Paul's been learning Japanese in evening classes, so I was delighted to hear him getting a chance to use it. It was very impressive actually. Some of the conversation turned to features of the language (I love language nerdery) that are not so much "interesting" as "entirely mental". Such as:

In Japanese, you use different numbers depending on what you're counting. Not "people/non people" as you might expect; there's a group of words for counting long cylindrical things (like pens and bottles), a group for flat things (plates and tables), a group for bound things (books, but not magazines), and so on. It was fascinating and madly entertaining, and Tomo giggled a lot at my stunned incomprehension. There's a counting group for animals too, but only smallish animals, like dogs, but St Bernards are pushing it, but all fish are included, and whales too, and all insects, but not any birds.

Japan-dweller Jonathan added over IM this morning, "The 'one' in 'one cat' is different to the 'one' in 'one tiger'." But he clarified "I don't count tigers often".

I don't think I'd be counting much of anything, to be honest with you.

But they don't have articles and they're not too hung up on tenses and the language is almost entirely regular, so who am I to judge what's mental. English is 75% regular, they told us in TEFL, though I suspect that's the 75% that nobody much uses.

Today is cold and dark, which are features of Life In Dublin. I slept in my nice warm hoodie, so getting changed for work was doubly difficult. Come on summer, get on with it.
noideadog: (school)
TEFL results! I got 65% in the actual teaching, 80% in the portfolio, 94.5% in the exam. It works out at 76% overall, which is a nice comfortable B. I am.. somewhat overjoyed :-)
noideadog: (Default)
Christ on a bike, I am having a _week_. I'll start by saying that the new job's going fine. I can't imagine ever knowing enough about anything to do anything useful ever, but I'm assured that that's the correct and traditional emotion for the first week, and possibly long after. I feel like my brain has already filled up, but I think I'll like it a lot.

So, work is happening, and the end of my tefl course is happening too. I called in today to sign out a book for my portfolio and ran into some of the teachers, who told me I did an excellent exam. "The best I've corrected", Lynda said, without giving a timeframe to elaborate on whether she meant 'today', 'from our course' or 'in her thirty years as a teacher'. I'm going to go with 'today', but I'm still very pleased about it. "That's one less thing to worry about", she told me, and I couldn't stop myself automatically saying "One _fewer_". I'm such an asshole. Luckily she looked pleased and amused rather than in a murderous rage. It's more than I deserve.

Unfortunately doing a good exam means that now I'm under pressure to go a good portfolio, since I now have a strong possibility of a decent mark if I apply myself. Which is a problem.

This is why it's a problem:

We have no electricity. Check it out. None at all. The power was down yesterday when I arrived home from work, and Glen's threatening and cajoling (I'm guessing. I wasn't there.) of the electricity supply board and paying someone else's bill of over a thousand euro has only got us an assurance that they'll come over tomorrow, probably, if they can be bothered. He has to call them at nine in the morning to remind them that they said they would.

One or two of you are thinking that it would be rather nice to not have electricity for a while. Exciting! Romantic! We could all sit around candles, you're thinking, and talk, like people did in olden times, and not get distracted by technological ..er.. distractions. Don't deny it -- I know you're thinking that, and you can go to hell right this minute. To the hell where you know there's a maglight somewhere in your room but you can't find it because it's winter and it's too fucking dark.

Things that run on electricity:
lights - important! They let you see what you're doing
showers - important! They make you not smell like poo
washing machines - important! They allow you to not have to resort to wearing vendor tshirts
fridge and freezer - not as important, but do help for not having a big puddle of melted ice on the floor
television - not important. I only use it for sunday morning cartoons.
internet - importantest of all! OMFG! Etc.
oven/microwave/grill/toaster - not as important. We have a gas hob, thank the gods. The clicky thing to start it runs on electricity, but luckily Glen's a smoker and we have fire. Everyone should have an emergency smoker for these very situations. They fit neatly under the sink.
my laptop after four hours - important! Allows me to type my portfolio for more than four hours.

I'm glad it's due Monday, and not tomorrow as was the original plan.

In other service outage news, my esteemed previous employers have finally started the process of converting my bills-paid-by-them phone to a ready-to-go phone. By 'started' I mean that they disabled the sim and then got bored and went home. So, no mobile, no Internet.. do feel free to call over if you're looking for me :-)

Right, sax lesson now. This is the first time in ..ever that I've written a LJ post without running postproduction on it afterwards to make it read better. It feels a bit weird to just. click. update.
noideadog: (school)
I'm a bit behind here.

Let's start at half past seven on Friday morning. Braving the excessive, cold, wintry, stupid rain, Gliceas kindly met me for an extra-early Grumpy Breakfast Club meeting, to give me pre-exam relaxation time, and to allow me to revise my phoneme flashcards on the pretext of showing him how interesting they were. Capital fellow, Gliceas. I don't say it often enough.

Reinforced with toast and bacon I ventured back out into the rain in plenty of time to arrive for my half eight exam. Even more plenty of time than I'd expected, as it happened, since the receptionist in the Dublin School of English greeted me with a bemused expression, a vow that no exam in the school had ever, ever taken place at half eight in the morning, and an invitation to check whether my brain was functioning adequately. (He only implied the last one.)

It was rather a relief when the only other person doing the exam at the same time arrived, and something of an anti-climax when the course co-ordinator turned up with a pretty easy exam. I ran out of time on the lesson planning question, but the grammar was fine, and interesting. Though actually, I still don't know what the form of "there's something I was meaning to ask you" is. I hope I can ask for the answer tomorrow night at the reception, after the other ten people in the class do the exam, but if you know what they might have been looking for, please do tell me.

Exam over, I latted up and went in to the office for my Last Day Ever in eircom.
noideadog: (school)
Last ever teaching practice. It rocked hard. My class were lovely, really co-operative, fun people, and they got right into my production exercise, which was giving each other directions around my shoddy maps, using legomen as avatars. Lots of astronauts, storm troopers, soldiers and skellingtons, all walking around Tanyatown, like the sort of dream you get after eating chilli before sleeping. They were still playing with the maps after I left the class. The students, I mean. The legomen were in my pocket. I ran over by 10 minutes because I didn't want to stop, and if I'm marked down for that, it was worth it. I know I've complained enough about this course, but I'm so sorry it's over now. Just the exam on Friday morning, and that doesn't count.

Right. Coffee. De-pressurising. fssssssssssst.
noideadog: (Default)
The people in my tefl class are among the most intelligent I have ever met. And attractive? Wow! You've never seen so much sex appeal in one room. And as for talent, I'm not even going to start telling you of their collective accomplishments, because you'd just be upset and jealous and say mean things, but I _heard_ that several of them have independently cured cancer, rescued small kittens from trees and flown solo around the world.

I say this of my own free will and for no particular reason.
noideadog: (Default)
If there was a prize, [livejournal.com profile] the_antichris, [livejournal.com profile] mockduck and [livejournal.com profile] mollydot would have to share it. Luckily, there isn't. Parsnip stands for politics, alcohol, religion, sex[uality], narcotics, isms and pork, btw. Pork's an interesting one, isn't it? (I'll understand if you think it isn't.)

Edit: Though I suspect the teacher was wrong and the I is really for Israel. It seems much more likely to me.
noideadog: (booze)
I'm not saying that I didn't deserve today's.. significant hangover, but green's just not my colour, especially for skin. Delightfully, Conor chose this morning for a quiz on the more fiddly and interesting aspects of grammar and comma usage. It was well after lunchtime before I was recalled to life.

Wonderful night last night. [livejournal.com profile] trjh got me a pony :-D



(Note the hair braiding. It was inevitable really.)
noideadog: (school)
You think you've seen ranting, but you've never seen [livejournal.com profile] mr_wombat reading the Daily Mail.

Short entry this evening because I have a metric assload of studying to do. The best thing I learned at school this evening is that there are seven topics that coursebook authors avoid, and that their acronym rather pleasingly spells 'parsnip'. I invite you to guess what they are (or display your astounding knowledge). Of course, you could look them up, but why would you want to?

[Poll #589875]
noideadog: (school)
I'm watching the splash screens as MS Office installs. I have to admit that I questioned the motivation of Microsoft:Encourage Mac for quite some time, until I realised it said 'Entourage'. Retard.

I had my fourth teaching practice today. For some reason, I wasn't nervous at all[1]. Well, not until I got to the classroom and was told that my upper intermediate class had been moved to a bigger room, to accommodate the billions of students who'd turned up. Madre del Dios!

Well, ok, there were fifteen. Fifteen's a lot though, when the most you've had before is six. Fifteen! My name strategy (learn them quickly; use them often) collapsed within seconds, and I ended up with a scrap of paper containing various Spanish, Italian, Czech, Brazilian and Mexican names, none of which I could competantly tie to a face. They all responded to 'Hey! You!' anyway.

Man, what a nice class. They understood the questions, delved deep for definitions (sorry) and generally were a pleasure to work with. At the end I introduced a debate topic, and they took to it with fervour, using the target language and earnestly disagreeing with each other. They laughed at my jokes and everything. I hated having to hand over to Andy.

I'm not saying that I didn't get a list of things to work on, but the 'overall' section of my lesson plan started with "Nice lesson." Oh. Yeahhhhh.

Oh, and apparently I have a good voice for teaching. "Useless if you want to do anything else of course ha ha", the observing teacher guy said, but I was too tired and post-lessony to be amused, so he changed the subject.

In our class tonight, fellow-student-Marian brought me in some Catchphrase-esque word games. (Marian is _fantastic_ and an excellent judge of what'll amuse me. One of the best classes so far was where we'd just learned phonemics. She knew them already, having been a speech therapist for 25 years or something, and while other people, horrified, asked "Is this on the exam?", she and I played with Received Pronunciation and translating poems in phonetic symbols. (And in my case saying "schwa!" a lot and laughing like a moron, but I expect I'll stop soon. (schwa! Isn't it great? I think only "Heidelberg" is more pleasant to articulate.))) Last week she brought in "How to Write English Properly". I've shared "eschew obfuscation" and "this sentence no verb" and various lame lateral thinking games, but I'm clearly losing the war to demonstrate the coolest stupid but cool[2] amusing language thing. What am I forgetting?

[1](should that comma be there? Language nerds, help me please! (How about that one? I'm not strong on commaage))
[2] According to Therese, the kids say "legend" now. Even "deadly" has been deprecated. Tina says "stylie" (not sure how to spell that) and thus isn't remotely fulfilling the obligations of the slang-knowing hip younger sister, so I'm a bit behind the times here. Did you know?
noideadog: (school)
I got a lovely mail this morning from Pollux Fackler explaining how I can save 70% on medication. I'm not on any medication, so I must have accidentally misled him at some stage, but I'm touched that he thought of me. Good ol' Pollux. He's so considerate.

Ineffectual weekend. I spent a stupid amount of time trying to find a newspaper article for my class on Wednesday. We're not allowed use material from coursebooks this time, and I mistakenly thought that finding a suitable article on "work, careers, training or education" would just be a matter of skimming a couple of newspapers, chopping out columns and choosing my favourite. I know better now. Powerman saved me with a copy of the Guardian's Work supplement, but not before I'd slogged through a couple of days' worth of the Irish Times, the Observer, the Daily Mail, the Sun, the Sunday Independent, Metro, Eircom Live![1], iVenus, Salon and some other random stuff I found on google.

Newspapers don't write about work as much as I'd expected. Or when they do, it's hostile towards immigrants, or filled with incomprehensible figures and jargon, or it's far too long and complex and also riddled with swearing. I'll be teaching an Upper Intermediate class (can read a novel, knows more grammar than you do), so they could handle it, but.. well, I tried to imagine standing up in front of twelve students and an observer and defining "a barrel of shitehawks", and then I went back to the search.

Anyway, thanks to Powerman, my class will be reading an article about napping at work and then discussing whether people are mental to pay those blokes in New York 14 quid for a twenty minute snooze. I think they probably are. I'm not saying that I don't love the idea of taking a siesta (or indeed that I couldn't do with one right this minute), but it does seem like yet another problem with an obvious, free solution and a sophisticated, expensive one. $14 for 20 minutes? How about going to bed earlier instead? Or sitting on a park bench and closing your eyes? Crazy, I know.

That said, of course, if we had a nap room in the office, I'd be hard pressed to stay out of it today. Now that I have an article, I need to make some exercises out of it, find some interesting grammar, type up some handouts. I have a class observation at lunch, and three hours of class after work, so it looks like it'll be a late night. Forget napping -- I'll sleep when I'm dead. (Which, seriously, any minute now.)

[1] "The magazine for eircom people". News, photographs and profiles, a reminisce by some old guy, obituaries, classifieds and you could win a hands free phone kit, if you send back the crossword by October 15th. 'Live' as in 'alive', btw, not as in 'living'. 'Eircom liiiiives'. Creepy. (I'd do the phonemic symbols to show off my new skills, but.. nahh.)
noideadog: (science)
"You take a live monkey -- this is illegal, by the way -- and you cut the top off, .."
noideadog: (weirdofreak)
I had a bit of a revelation last night. It seems that if I close my laptop, and put it in another room, and seat myself at a table with a cup of tea, a pen and a short stack of printer paper, that I get more work done that when I'm fecking around on the Internet. The Internet may not be the catalyst of productivity that we have long imagined. This is strange and upsetting, I know.

Did you notice my smug voice just there? Imagine it, if you didn't. That's because last night I finished my lesson plan - and it's not due until Wednesday! Check that out! It's a deadline, in the future, that I've already met. In the future! This means that I can get an early night tonight, and - excitingly - there's a small chance that for the first time my lesson feedback won't include "Relax!" as a reference to my tired, nervy over-caffeination.

A small chance.

Needing - no, deserving a lie in after last Wednesday's class, I made my excuses to the other Grumpy Breakfast Club members (Well, ok, there's only Gliceas) on Thursday and Friday, so yesterday was my first 7am start in a couple of days. Dark, wasn't it? Screw Autumn: if you have to put on the light to find your shoes, it's Winter. I was a bit relieved when I heard people saying we were just having an eclipse of some kind, but no, this morning was just as dark. It's only October! By December I'm going to need a miner's helmet just to locate my bed.

It was cold too. I got dressed under the duvet to protect against frostbite.

Stupid Winter. Here is a list of everything Winter has going for it:
big sloppy bowls of potatoey stew
fingerless gloves
Christmas!
snowmen
mulled wine (and that's part of Christmas really, isn't it?)
the crunching noise that frost makes under your boots (and that's almost cancelled out by the fact that you can no longer feel your nose or see through your crystalised eyelashes)
umm..

I hate Winter. I tried to reject it this morning by turning up the shower temperature until my skin started to dissolve, but the ice has settled inside my major organs and, as is traditional, I won't be warm again until May. Time to get the oilskins out, I guess.
noideadog: (school)
I'm trying to find some material for a reading lesson on "lifestyle", so I'm sitting in bed reading Men's Health, Women's Weekly, U, I, the Evening Herald and Pick Me Up. I feel the same sense of disillusionment and hopelessness as that time I watched eight episodes of Sex and the City in a row. The world can't really be like this. Someone would have stopped it by now. Can I get away with watching Dead Like Me and calling it research into the lifestyles of the undead? I probably can't.

My group is meeting later this evening to compare notes and comment on one another's lesson plans. For your entertainment and edification, here is my lesson plan, on which I have been (theoretically) working since 6pm yesterday:


"45-60 minute lesson on the subject of lifestyles. To incorporate reading and listening.

Subject: Something about work/free time balance?

NB: buy more peanuts."

Edit: from someone's sig on redbrick just now

CALVIN: You can't just turn on creativity like a faucet. You have to
be in the right mood.
HOBBES: What mood is that?
CALVIN: Last minute panic.

Perfect.
noideadog: (school)
Anyone know how you pronounce Recife? It's a town in the north of Brazil, you know. It's warmer, smaller and less crowded than Sao Paulo. Drier too. Sao Paulo has more expensive accommodation and a bigger population. You'd have a gooder lifestyle in Recife, I reckon. Unless you couldn't pronounce it, in which case the subject would be less likely to come up.

The singing man who lives in my powerbook reckons it's ress-eye-ff (nearly sounds like recite), but he'll never admit he's just making a best guess. Anyone?
noideadog: (school)
Survived. "Thank you. It was a nice class". RaWK!

I had a class of four. Well, that wasn't quite what I'd expected, but it meant that I was able to get all of the names and make a decent attempt at remembering the pronunciations of Ooagi, Sodo, Ayush and Attaa. They were great. I initially thought it'd be very difficult, since they weren't answering anything, but once they got used to me, or possibly once I adjusted my vocabulary to them, they ended up talking a good bit.
I definitely didn't have good class control though. Twice, an explanation to the whole class ended up going to just the one person who was currently listening, but that was bad timing on my part rather than anything else, and I guess I'll learn to do better. I did a whole lot of other bad stuff, but it was ok, I think. It was even fun. I'd found a couple of enormous mobile phones from prehistory, and we were doing an exercise where we called our bosses and lied about the reason we couldn't be in work. (It's a useful skill to teach, I think). They were all trying to be angry bosses, but didn't really have the vocabulary, so they were making angry faces and then saying "...That's ok". Fantastic. I was laughing a lot, and so were they, so I reckon that even if they didn't learn anything, I score it as a win.
Feedback later. Lynda sure wrote a _lot_ of things down.

I teach. I have taught. I will teach again. W00t!
noideadog: (school)
Our first Teaching Practice is at lunchtime today, observed by Lynda, the course coordinator. I'll be teaching six to twelve Russian and Mongolian adults how to make and accept excuses in English. Our little dialogues are very polite and understanding:

"I'm afraid I can't come to work today. I have a temperature." "That's ok!".
"I can't come to dinner. I'm sorry, but I have a cold." "Don't worry!"

We're all so agreeable.

I don't know whether you can tell from my jaunty tone, but I'm really very incredibly paralysingly scared of this. Saturday's microteaching doesn't seem to have made me any braver, and I really thought it would. My original idea on this was that by the end of the course, the scared/notscared toggle would have flipped in my brain, but I don't think that's true any more. I talked about this with Mags, a girl in the class who does stand up comedy. She says that you don't necessarily ever stop being scared; You're still terrified, but you stop letting that stop you doing what you want to do. She said she was still feeling like throwing up just before going on stage, even after doing it for months. Yikes!

So, my Personal Aim for the lesson are:
Hide terror. Sound confident.

My other aim is to try to get the sentence "The dog ate my homework" somewhere into the class, but that one's not written on my Lesson Plan.
noideadog: (school)
I ironed. I was ironing. I have ironed. I have been ironing. But not "I will have been ironing" because I won't again for ages. An afternoon's ironing isn't the meditative pleasure I'd hoped it would be.

My Saturday microteaching went pretty well. I arrived at the school at 9, nervous and highly caffeinated, and (despite four hours of frustrated preparation) woefully unprepared. I was first there, so got to see the various expressions of wide-eyed terror as the rest of the class arrived. Scared people are really reassuring. When I thought everyone else was confident about giving the class, I was dreading it. Once I realised lots of other people were scared, it got comparatively easy. I've no idea why that happens, but it always does.

I'm not saying I enjoyed it though. I managed to grab the first slot, which was very nice, forgot to introduce myself or my subject, and then speed-babbled my way through a shoddy explanation of how things that happened while other things are happening didn't happen before the things that they happen during, or something unfortunate like that. Other than the fact that the _native english speakers_ couldn't follow my elementary-level explanation though, it went very well, and by the end I think I was even breathing normally. I smiled a lot, used people's names, asked concept questions.. I think I actually did pretty well. Pretty good feedback too. I definitely wasn't the best, but I wasn't the worst either. I can almost imagine doing it again on Wednesday without wanting to vomit. Big improvement on last week.

Saturday evening was an impromptu barbeque where I consumed enough beer and burgers that it could almost have been Good Friday in my student days. Despite a not very late night, I slept until half three on Sunday, and was too zonked for the rest of the day to do much more than ironing every piece of clothing I own while watching Dead Like Me and The O.C. dvds. And now it's Monday and I'm back to school again in a few minutes.

On an entirely different subject, Gliceas wants to know what the collective noun for aunts is.

[Poll #573430]
noideadog: (school)
TEFL drinks last night. Two of the class members who talk least were revealed to be a breakdancing instructor and a stand up comedian. "Irish people always have hidden depths", someone said, making the rest of us feel inadequate as we failed to think of any.

Our first microteaching is on Saturday. That's where you stand up in front of the rest of your class and deliver a lesson, and they pretend to be learners at whatever level. I'm doing an Elementary level lesson on The Past Continuous. It seemed ok until I started trying to think of simple sentences in it. The notes suggest a lesson on "What were you doing on New Year's Eve?", but it's all a bit contrived, isn't it? You'd be more likely to say "What did you do on New Year's Eve?". "I was drinking and I was dancing. Later I was sleeping.". Naw, you'd say "I got drunk on interesting cocktails and talked shite.". I would anyway.

It's interesting (to me) that we're encouraged to teach English As She Is Spoke, rather than the 'correct' way to say things. Descriptive, rather than Prescriptive, dontchaknow. This makes one of the girls in the class absolutely crazy, and I can see it being a source of entertainment conflict in the future. Personally, I'd prefer to teach "May I" over "Can I" and "Excuse me" over "Sorry", but I see the point. You want the students to learn to speak like everyone else does. I presume we don't teach swearing though. Man, you could do a great class on the many and varied uses of the word 'f*ck'.

The microteaching is a good 21 hours away, so I'm sure I'll have thought of something by then. Oh god. My notebook is covered in accusing questions. "Where were you living in 2001?" "What were you thinking when you sent that letter?" "You were working. Are you working now?" "What were you doing when I walked in on you that time?" (Sorry [livejournal.com profile] mr_wombat ;-) )

I hope having something prepared properly will reduce the enormous crushing terror I feel whenever I think about standing up in front of a class. Despite intentions not to tell people how scared I am, I let one person know that ..wasn't exactly looking forward to it. She was really surprised. Apparently I give the impression of being completely unfazed by it all so far. I'm clinging to that. If people don't know you're scared, that makes it all a good bit easier. Also, people have been recommending Rescue Remedy to me for years (and what that says about me, I don't like to think), so maybe it's time.

All of my LJ posts for the next while are likely to be variants on "I have no free time oh dear" "Here is something interesting and grammatical I learned" and "I am so scared that I think I might throw up". I am BoringGirl! Fear my banality!
noideadog: (school)
Yoy. Quick update, in between brain context switches.

Day two of TEFL training was yesterday. I predicted that I'd be angsting on "What am I doing here?" very early on, and it arrived right on schedule when most of the rest of the class started sharing teaching experiences. As far as I can tell, there are very few of us who come there from a day job that isn't teaching. Everyone else is either a full time teacher, or a student of English. I'm enjoying the grammar and the language discussion (I'm a rules nerd.), but dreading the actual teaching. "Don't worry", Lynda-the-teacher reassured us. "You won't be teaching actual students who are paying to be there.. until next week." HOLY F*CKING SH*TBALLS, as a great philosopher once said.

Yesterday's class was an introduction to the course and theories of teaching, followed by a session of language learning. It was meant to be in Mongolian, the idea being that you get an idea of what it's like to start teaching English to someone without a word of it, or to be a student in that sort of class. I want to go to Ulan Bator and surroundings for a few weeks next year, so that would have been brilliant, but the Mongolian chap had gone home for a funeral, so we had ninety minutes of Spanish instead. A friendly, attractive and very ill lady called Sara hola'd at us, and began the lesson entirely in Spanish, punctuating her talking and writing with sitting down so that she didn't pass out. It was good fun, but sort of too easy, since everyone knows a bit of French or German or Latin or even just English, or has seen a movie about Mexicans, or read the label on a bottle of tequila, so most of it was fairly easy to extrapolate. It was sort of interesting to see the division in the class though, between those of us who enjoyed the puzzle of it all, and those who were getting more and more blank-faced and resentful as they stopped trying to understand. She eventually switched back into English, which was a bit of a shame. It was still a great class though. She wouldn't let us take notes, and I'm surprised at how much of it I remember. It's a pity it was on the first day though. If it had been later on, the group would have dynami..c..ised? or a word like that? enough that someone would have said "You are clearly dying of influenza. Please go home. We don't mind." but nobody was willing to step forward. Poor lady.

And speaking of illness, my omnipresent cold is omnier than ever, and I'm coughing like a f*cking maniac. It bothers me that it's probably my defining feature in the class now. There's Marian who makes well-reasoned arguments and is good to talk to, Ian, who reads and doesn't speak much, cheerful Trudie the primary school teacher, Marie, careful note-taker.. and Tanya, who's drinking two litres of water a class, mainlining Exputex.. and still hacking her lungs up over her notes. This has been a feature of pretty much everything I've ever done. Colds are kind of my thing.

Gliceas and I are doing breakfast meetings at 8am, and for the first time since school I have a sort of a routine. I used to envy people who were able to stick to a routine. What was I thinking? People with routines have NO FREE TIME. I had a whole hour last night with nothing to do, and instead of laundry, exercise, Internet, reading, saxophone or any of the other things that have completely disappeared from my schedule, (or my TEFL homework, incidentally), I drank juice and told [livejournal.com profile] mr_wombat about my day. Unnecessary human contact! How wasteful!

Cold aside, I'm actually really enjoying this week. Can you tell?

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