No other way to describe it. The good news is that my classes all begin exams next week, which means I only have 1 class, and it's all over by 12 each day until the 23rd. The bad news is I have a sack of marking to do, a mountain of filing, and lots of niggling things to do - checking, changing, retests etc.
On the one hand I have accomplished the main things (within a climate of chaos and a culture of dishonesty). On the other hand, I think there are a few potholes where I didn't manage to dot every i and cross every t. Mrs Martins will be on the warpath next week (she'd the Head of Department), and since I disagreed on a particular issue (relating to discipline, aka, giving retests to students I caught cheating), I'm sure next week is going to be tough.
This may be a bad patch, but it's a kind of shock and awe mental barrage that I am not really willing to go through ad nauseum. I heard today that reporter is paying me over R700 for my occasional submissions. That's not a bad salary for something I enjoy doing. Could easily trouble or treble that, and then work towards the bigger publications. Will do so in the holidays and see if I can survive on that basis. My intention is now to complete the term, and I wouldn't be averse to quitting teaching before the end of the year. If I can afford it, I will.
I'm told I can teach at the university from next year, and that is obviously a far better proposition.
For my sanity I really need to limit the amount of time I spend shouting and losing my sanity here. Even with the awareness that I'm starting to go nuts, it's still hard to hold on to the golden thread. No wonder there are so few male teachers in the profession. It's all fuss, and nothing gets done except verbal swordfighting.
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