530am: get up have breakfast, etcetera. I mentioned this yesterday and it isn't going to change for the rest of the week so I'm just going to skip it. But just because I've skipped it don't assume I've magically woken up at school because I probably won't have, that would be weird. Though I now realise it would have been quicker to simply talk about breakfast and driving to school but for future reference that's what I do between 530 and 700am.
7am: At school - planning lessons and such forth.
835am: Arrive at briefing five minutes early for a bit of a sit down.
848am: Bump into loud year eight girl. 'I'm going to be really good today sir!' Say: 'Excellent!', Think: I'll believe it when I see it.
850am: Registration
910am: Year 7. Play a version of 'Simon says' involving turning around by different angles. Result: Some very dizzy eleven year olds. It's Parent's evening for year seven tomorrow so I have a useful stick to keep them under control with.
930am: 'My Mum's gonna batter you at parent's evening'. Oh joy. Obviously this boy's inability to sit still/shut up for more than five seconds, along with his inability to do homework or turn up to deentions are all my fault. Still if his height and build or anything to go by I shouldn't be too worried.
950am: The class are working well, meaning a rare case of going further than I planned. Maybe we should have parent's evening every week.
1010am: First year eight class, a.k.a the 'nice ones'. The pupils work well, and, hey, I'm not even seeing their parents tomorrow. It must be that rarest of things: a good morning.
1110am: The year eights are so good one of them even stays behind voluntarily to ask for help on his homework. Have I woken up in a parallel universe?
1130am: Year ten. The nice ones who are actually nastier than the nasty ones. We're in the computer room again doing coursework so they're hypnotised by the computer screens. Confiscations: Two MP3 players - if only I could keep them.
1230pm: A lunctime without a single detention. Female maths staff are finding fault with every male member of staff's approach to teaching. Eat lunch and hide.
125pm: Year 8: not so good class. They manage to be very loud, including the girl from earlier. In all fairness it's not her fault, all the boys fancy her so she always gets distracted. Have to send someone to th Isolation Facilty for not shutting the hell up and having the worst excuses ever. 'Sorry I'm late sir I went to the toilet.' Ten minutes later: 'Can I go to the toilet?' ??? Confiscations: One phone.
230pm: Year 10. The nasty class who are nicer than the nice class. They work okay on coursework, even if they are a little giddy and more interested in discussing my hairstyle, apparently it's 'cute'. I'm hoping they meant that in the sense of fluffy little bunnies, but even that's not great.
330pm: Send them packing.
515pm: Leave school.
6pm: Stop to get some newspapers on the way home for a mini-project at school. End up buying the Sun, the Mirror, the Express and the Telegraph. I couldn't find the Guardian to balance out the tackiness and give myself an air of credibility so end up looking likely a trashy, perverted fascist.
630pm: Home and Blog.