A Different Kind Of Monday

Before I start this post, I feel a strong need to offer a disclaimer to go with it.  For anyone reading this who doesn’t work in education - the following words may induce jealousy.  So if you want to stop reading now, go ahead. I’m still going to indulge myself. Sorry. Not sorry.    So, I’m thinking back to what I was doing this time last week. Probably sitting somewhere along my 25 stop commute from East to West London either: deciding what I could cook that would take the least amount of time, therefore giving me maximum chill time, calculating how many hours of sleep I would be able to get if I got into bed as soon as I got through the door or more likely just trying not to give in to the overwhelming desire to fall asleep for the duration of the journey home.  Well, it is currently 6.19pm and I am feeling exceptionally relaxed for this has been a very different kind of Monday.  My day started without any alarms as opposed to my usual million snoozes at four minute intervals, usually resulting in me throwing my phone on the floor in a sulk.  Following this was a leisurely breakfast enjoyed in bed in place of my usual sip of tea, (the remainder of the cup left sadly by the bed as I never seem to have time to finish it) and burnt toast (which usually ends up in the bin).  Mid morning saw me go for a run (I literally can’t remember the last time I found time for exercise in term time) and completing some errands that I have been trying to do for weeks. Usually by this time on a Monday I already feel like I have done a full day’s work.  But not today! Next I made my way to the park for a stroll with my little pug - the one who I typically see for approximately two hours a day during the week (both of which he is usually asleep). For someone without children, the guilty working mum complex resonates a bit too much.  After my walk, I returned home to enjoy a massage that I had booked as a present to myself after which I proceeded to watch a film all afternoon which I have just finished. Not too shabby for a Monday. Because it is, of course, the time that all teachers have been waiting for. Half Term.  One of my earlier posts spoke about the Sunday Dread which is all too recognisable for so many teachers across the country. Well I can tell you the feeling I had last night could have been coined the Sunday Ecstasy. There truly is nothing better than the first Sunday of a school holiday. A day which would usually be filled with outstanding jobs from the week, a mild feeling of anxiety and an inability to fully relax is replaced by full celebration mode.  I refuse to be one of those teachers who insist that the job we do is the hardest in the world, because to be frank, it’s not. There are doctors and paramedics all over the country who literally save lives all day, every day. Social workers and youth workers who are forced to make difficult and life changing decisions on a daily basis and not to mention the police and firefighters who constantly put their own lives at risk just to help others. But as I said in my last post, we may not have the hardest job in the world, but the workload is high and the fatigue is real.  Giving a lot of yourself to the young people that come to rely on you takes a lot out of you. But I can’t complain because, after all, it is worth it. However, I am not afraid to say that school holidays are just flipping brilliant and very much needed.  In fact I would go as far as saying that just as the Sunday Dread is worse for adult teachers than it is for young children, the holidays are better for us than they are for them. I mean when you are at school pretty much everything that you want to do relies on your parents either driving you somewhere, giving you permission or giving you money.  Being an adult with income and the ability to do whatever you choose with a full week off with zero responsibility is just heavenly. So with that I’m off to make the most of it and I’ll see you in a week with more tales from my East London classroom.