Dead End

13:30

I called them twice but they said they had no substitute! Damn it! I can’t stand teaching this bullshit anymore. Now I’m late and I haven’t prepared anything. I’m gonna give them 11 pages to read, this will give me one hour. Yay!  

13:45

Ok. Copies. I need copies. What? This stupid thing isn’t working? 

Finally.

I haven’t even combed my hair today. Shit. 

I won’t ask for excuses or anything like that. I mean, I am the teacher. They won’t mind if I’m late, they are so unmotivated and impolite...See, when I had to take that course it took 5 months! They spent two months doing stuff and already look like little spoiled kindergardeners...They would never have passed the exams I had to..

14:04

Hello. Our first activity is a reading activity- (Oh my God, why are those trouble makers sitting all together staring at me?). Here you get the material. Please read it. It’s divided in six sections. I’ve erased the titles. I’m gonna go copy the sheet here with the titles and I’d like you to match the titles to the texts. (Fuck, I forgot this other sheet. Well, they are reading anyway...). 

14:15

Right. Here you go. (I forgot the boxes. Gotta go down to the teacher’s room again).

14:45

They are still reading. I can go prepare the other things.

14:55

I won’t stand next to those trouble makers. I’m gonna use the other tables in the back.

15:00

So here I’ll make them work in stations. That takes longer and I don’t need to talk. Matching pictures is great. It takes time. Here I’ll make them read and discuss...Stations are dynamic and student centered. Great. Problem solved. Just need to glue these things on the boxes.

15:10

Finished reading? Here you got the answer key. Yo you have any questions or comments? 

Oh, Julia. Right. She’s nice. (blablablablawhateverIdon’tevenknowwhatI’msaying)

Alright, people. Here in the back are work stations. The instructions are there. You’ll work alone, in pairs or in groups. Please stand up and start working...

15:12

AHHHH. Help! I really don’t want to be here. I’ll go pee and get some water.

15:35

What? Where is everybody? 

15:40

Ah! Got them! They went to have a break downstairs. Alright. I’ll play nice. I’ll sit there with them. If I suggest to continue the class here, they’ll sure like it. Why is this German looking so angry? He doesn’t stop to use his fucking cell phone. And the girl next to him! They look so mean. I hope I’ll never have to see them again! Am I glad that this is the last day! 

15:55

Ok. Almost over. I’ll make them talk about whatever and I’ll say whatever so the time passes faster. 

Blablabla

Blablabla

Yes!

Blablabla!
No

Blablabla. 

Alright! Almost done.

Blablabla.

16:32

Ok. I guess it’s time. Thank you guys!

FREE! I’m FREEE! Yay!

Cryers

So they freak out

and cry

and shout

and beg for comprehension

and all you feel

is disgust.

Smell

Some people are just a pile of flesh

rotting right in front of you

wondering where the horrible smell comes from.

Amber & Honey

Quiet she sits in the corner and smiles her smile of wisdom. Her honey-coloured hair surrounds her light face and her right arm moves in the pace of the words she jots down on her perfectly organised notebook. The thick scars on her arm and hands are proof of her untold stories. Her eyes look like two precious stones of Amber that sparkle golden in the sunlight that shines through the palm tree standing in front of the window, like a silent witness. 

Once in a while the Amber-Lady tells you something, just one little story of her short life that has been so full of unexpected events. She looks deep inside her memories and tells you about her conflicted childhood, her dictatorial dad and all the things she has started and never finished. She talks about her search for love and peace, her fight to find her place in the world. Her run after destiny, the sacrifice for her love. The troubled years far away in a country that has burning deserts and ice cold winters, where she lives with her husband and children. No regular job, no big house, no expensive car, but the certainty that they are happy and fine. 

She tells you tragic things as if she was talking about the weather. There is this powerful serenity in each of her well-chosen words. You listen to her gentle voice, her calm way of speaking, picturing everything she’s telling you. It feels like ten minutes of her life could fill a whole book. Like honey she is sweet and comforting. Her presence makes the room find a balance as if she could hold everything together. Like honey is a magnet to the bees, she becomes the magnet for everyone around her.  
The Amber- Lady. 
I was lucky to meet her. 

Doughnuts

And then it goes like this:

Congratulations! You're pregnant! 

You kind of really feel happy. But then it goes on:

So, starting today you should NOT:

-drink alcohol.

- drink tea

- drink soft drinks

- use sweetener

- eat raw food (ham, sushi, rare steaks)

- eat any salad in restaurants

- smoke

- dye your hair (why the hell??)

- use any kind of medication without talking to me

-You should try to get 8 hours sleep at night and exercise regularly. But nothing dangerous!  

You smile and go home thinking: 9 months? really??

The lack of coffee gives you headaches. You can't sleep right, because you got to pee 3 times a night. Your hair looks awful. It has now two colours and you already feel like a cranky witch, which makes you extremely sensitive and whiny. Any strong smell gives you nausea. It feels like there is a drunken ship in your stomach. 

You're immune system is low, so you get everything: weird infections in horrible places, annoying colds and other unexpected stuff like: haemmorhoids! I mean, nobody fucking told you, that even your arsehole would suffer! How unfair is that? You can't even sit right, because it feels like there is a burning doughnut stuck in your arse. 

 It's New Year's Eve and your friends are bathing in Freixenet, while you hold your glass full of apple juice and reflect on the bullshit people tell you about pregnancy. 

You start getting fat and your pants won't fit you anymore. Due to the lack of sleep you got dark circles around the eyes. Constant visits to different doctors screw with your time schedule. People treat you as if you weren't a person. You're reduced to a womb that carries wonderful new life in it. They don't look you in the eyes anymore, their attention and even their hands go directly to you belly! (Fuck off! Don't touch!) 

Stretch marks make you feel like a zebra and you wish you could have ordered your baby online.  

And you google about pregnancy and see those pictures of women, that look like angels, stroking happily their round bellies (of course without any sign of stretch marks!). Wonderful shiny one-coloured hair surrounds their delighted faces. They are sitting on a sofa (how the hell can they actually sit??) and smile, while holding little baby clothes in their perfectly manicured hands. 

So you start wondering: Is something wrong with you? Are you evil? Will your baby hate you? Don't you have those "mother instincts" people keep on babbling about? Or is this whole "Disney version" pregnancy a huge lie and those women sitting on the sofa also feel the doughnut stuck in their arse? The stretch marks were photo shopped and their hair is actually a wig? 

Maybe you'll never know. But when your baby is born, you'll certainly feel: 

It's worth it!

The Ring

He stands there in front of the white board writing and gesturing in a way that makes his hot butt move.

I can't stop looking at it. His voice makes me tremble. I can't understand what he says, I just see his delicious lips moving. His velvety voice is my favourite sound. Every time he takes the marker to write something- I see it. The golden ring. The biggest golden ring ever. His heavy golden ring telling me: 

I AM MARRIED.

And I sigh and I look at him and wish his wife would leave him. Or be abducted. Or die. His shiny golden ring hangs on his pretty finger, when he comes to correct my homework. I can feel it's weight. He leans on my table and smiles. His eyes are like a sweet invitation. His glances tell me:  Don't give up. You'll get it right.

I hate his ring as much as I love him.

Why Me

That's it?

For the rest of my life?

Everything changed?

It'll be like that forever?

But I did nothing wrong!

Why me?

Just bad luck, I guess.

Sun and Stars

Once you were my sun and stars

now you're just a shadow in my memory.

Who

Who'd have known...that you would even forget this bastards name?

And you'd live abroad. Who'd have known you would get exactly that job you said you'd never ever do? And you would love it?

Who'd have known you'd do so many mistakes and still end up at the right place on the right time to meet the right guy? Who'd have known...

Pride

This pride that lives in every cell of my body

is nursed by the stubbornness that lives between my eyes

and the resentfulness right behind my ears,

carried by the vengefulness that I treasure so much.

Trash

Every time you hit her

you screw with your own dignity

and confirm: you're human trash.

You should be in a garbage bin. 

Ironies

I used to hate big cities. 

I used to say, I'd never ever become a teacher.

I used to feel sick just by thinking of Sushi.

I used to think I know who I am

and what I want

and what I don't want.

And then life taught me

little by little

slapping me in the face

kicking my ass

and laughing.

Now I live in a big city 

work as a teacher

and wish I could have Sushi every day.

And I I don't know who I am

or what I want exactly

or what I don't want.

And I've never been happier.