Dear readers.

I guess I’m done.

I am going back to work on monday. I will tell them what a horrible flu I’ve had.

I’ll tell them it’s over now.

I’m not sure it’s true, though. There are more words screaming in my head, more letters wanting to be written. But I’d have to write those in Norwegian, I think, because my school-mates didn’t understand English. Neither is it the language natural for conversation with my teachers, my neighbours, my lovers or my perpetrators. That’s kind of stupid, isn’t it – to change languages in the middle of a blog? Maybe I should just start a new one. Or delete the letters in English, start over.

Maybe, if I really focus on my work, I’ll manage to hold the letters back completely? They are giving me a new position, you see. I’ve been fighting for the one I have now, teaching English and science to all the classes in grade 5-7, having responsibility for no class in particular, for years. But then there is this class that have been raising hell since they entered the building three and a half years ago. Their last teacher quit a month ago and since three temps have left, vowing to never teach again. So, I am being pulled out of my comfortable half-retirement and entering the war zone of homeroom teaching once again. And in a fourth grade at that, where I don’t know any of the kids. I’ve taught senior classes for years, the juniors have their own playground and start their days at different times than us. Can’t say I’m looking much forward to getting to know them either. I know I`m not supposed to say that, but this really is not quite the quiet, leaving-lots-of-time-for-convincing-my-boyfriend-he-loves-me-enaugh-to–risk-being-murdered-by-his-family-to-leave-the-closet-with-me-job I had in mind for spring.

Since I have no choice in the matter, I guess I`d better stop whining about it and get enough sleep this week-end to last me a while. Maybe even try to look for an upside? I don`t particularly enjoy fighting classes, but the winning-and-imposing-laws-of-love-and-order-part tends to be fun. I hope it wont take me too long to get there.

4 thoughts on “Dear readers.

Add yours

  1. Not sure I like this post as much as I adore the others. That’s selfishness, though. I would love to read more of your letters. They matter. But so do your new task. I wish you could do both, I wish you easy love, I wish you good luck. I’ll just hang around here, in case you pop by.

    Like

  2. Hva en fryktelig influensa det er å vurdere mord og lære engelsk til barn av optimisme som ikke har lært glede av engelsk og google.
        I’ve been experimenting with the google translator and sometimes it’s totally wrong and crazy. I’ve wondered what it would be like to speak as an essence that could be understood in all languages. Every language appears to have its blind spots so that there are some things that can not be expressed adequately without arduous twisting. The ballet does not seem to be easily elegant. There is the dance around euphemisms…

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