A new girl started in year eight today and at the start of the morning the head of key stage three came to see me to say that they would be in my class. Poor kid, she must have come to the school full of excitement, only to be thrust into the shambles that is a maths lesson taught by me. It's probably shattered any illusions she might have had about happy times ahead with well taught lessons. As it happens it was quite a nice lesson - I made an extra effort to be in charge and also be polite to all the pupils, it was a bit like being observed, albeit by someone much smaller and less intimidating than normal.

Naturally enough the boys were very keen to be talking to her. I would have done the same at their age, actually that's not entirely true: I would have wanted to do the same but would have been too shy.

The million-dollar question
'Sir, do you enjoy teaching?'
'Yes, of course!'
'Why is it that teachers like school but we hate it?'

Who else would do it?
'Sir, you're a teacher aren't you?'
'Yup' (well I'm trying my best at least)
'You have to plan your own lessons. I'm never going to be a teacher.'

Our department prides itself on removing naughty pupils from lessons to rooms within our own block rather than shifting them off to the Isolation Facility. And so it was today that when I walked into my room during my PPA (Planning and Pissing About) time I came across an awkward young lady standing at the door.

'Are you a teacher? What's your name? How long you been here?'

Long enough to know that it's not a good idea to be left in a room on my own with a scally teenage girl. After my - initially snubbed - request that she actually sit down like presumably she was supposed to she came to the conclusion that I didn't like her. Why on earth wouldn't I like someone who I met only five seconds ago and in that time has peppered me with pointless questions and taken three attempts to carry out such a simple request as sitting down?