That first half term...

After six weeks of boredom and thumb twiddling and household chores and reading and daytime TV and late mornings and lounging around in the sun in your PJs, you'd think any teacher would be ready and willing for the academic year to kick off.

Ha.

What does the first half term herald? Colds and manflu epidemics. Yup, your immune system is forgetful; 6 weeks off and it fails to recall how to battle snotty-teenage-greasy-hair-I-don't-know-what-soap-is germs and bacteria. Leaving the average teacher with any combination of the following:

1. Tennis ball tonsils


2. Pneumatic drill headaches


3. English weather temperature (up, down and always damp)


4. Drain nose (blocked)


5. Volcanic nose (gushing)


6. Dirty-perv phone voice

At the moment, I have a delightful concoction of 1, 2, 3 and 6. Yummy.

If you're lucky enough to teach Year 11 English, the new academic term also brings with it the advent of coursework: cramming in the teaching of the last piece of coursework, including drafting and marking; chasing the little darlings for any missing pieces of coursework which slipped through the gargantuan net you were wielding back in June and July; remarking and remarking and remarking the redrafts which the keen-to-do-wells hand in; running weekly coursework club sessions so that students can finish the last piece / complete any missing pieces / redraft any pieces which are under target grade (delete as appropriate).

My dining room is not a place for eating meals or even for doing the ironing; instead, it is some sort of a coursework conveyor belt. Original pieces. Redrafts. Re-redrafts. Re-re-redrafts. It will take me all of the half term holiday to figure out which are the best pieces for each student and to remark them all.

And teachers work for the holidays.

Ha.

Hmmm. What else does the joyous first half term bring us? Oh yeah, pre-Ofs... twitterings and twinges. (I can't say the name aloud - it works like the Candyman: utter the name, spin around three times and it will appear).

The first half term also brings the urge to go and do something sensible with your life, like working in a supermarket or being a call centre operator or enlisting in the army. Something where you don't have to deal with petty bureaucracy (writing a report because you want to order some paperclips); something where you don't have to deal with ill-educated and irate parents ("What do you mean you want Johnny to do a detention? I don't understand why turning up late, not having a pen, hitting the boy on his table and doing no work means he has to do a detention?!"); something where you don't feel so guilty about missing work that you drag yourself in even when you're ill (1, 2, 3 and 6).

Teaching: pah!