I understand the sighs and groans from the year 5 and 6 children when they're given more homework. I can empathise with those who have great difficulty thinking up a believable excuse for not handing it in on time. I felt for the boy who slumped on his desk at 9.15 this morning and moaned, 'Why do we do so much work?!'
Yes, the new Open University course has officially started, and I have to remind myself why I'm doing it all in the first place. Actually, I've mostly convinced myself that my two worst high-school teachers were wrong, and that I'm not totally stupid. I've 100% made up my mind that I'm not going into teaching (I'm having far too much of an easy life being a teaching assistant, and I don't like paperwork or being cornered by parents). So, really, the money's being spent on staving off Alzheimer's and avoiding rubbish on tv. Plus, I just have this course then one other and I get a day off work, a do at Ely Cathedral, and my mum can have a good cry when I go to collect my honours degree. And so on I slog.
Linguistics this year, and I've finally got past the horribly boring chapter on metaphors (and it really tried my patience. Just about everything we say, according to someone I can't remember the name of, is a metaphor. The one that's causing arguments on the OU forum is 'on Tuesday'. This is a metaphor, we have read, because you can't actually be on Tuesday. But some are saying lots of things about the use of prepositions that I don't understand and have kind of lost interest in because it's all a bit 'aren't I clever?').
I am now onto bits about how spoken narratives work, and how we change our style of speech to fit in with other people, which is far more interesting. The assignments are not too bad. I'm not looking forward to transcribing loads of speech, but I like the look of this one: '"One must be an inventor to read well... There is then creative reading as well as creative writing." Discuss this in the light of your study.' Unfortunately I have to wait until May for that one.
It's his new children's book and is huge fun. I'm going to sneak it into school and read it to the class when no-one's looking.
Yes, the new Open University course has officially started, and I have to remind myself why I'm doing it all in the first place. Actually, I've mostly convinced myself that my two worst high-school teachers were wrong, and that I'm not totally stupid. I've 100% made up my mind that I'm not going into teaching (I'm having far too much of an easy life being a teaching assistant, and I don't like paperwork or being cornered by parents). So, really, the money's being spent on staving off Alzheimer's and avoiding rubbish on tv. Plus, I just have this course then one other and I get a day off work, a do at Ely Cathedral, and my mum can have a good cry when I go to collect my honours degree. And so on I slog.
Linguistics this year, and I've finally got past the horribly boring chapter on metaphors (and it really tried my patience. Just about everything we say, according to someone I can't remember the name of, is a metaphor. The one that's causing arguments on the OU forum is 'on Tuesday'. This is a metaphor, we have read, because you can't actually be on Tuesday. But some are saying lots of things about the use of prepositions that I don't understand and have kind of lost interest in because it's all a bit 'aren't I clever?').
I am now onto bits about how spoken narratives work, and how we change our style of speech to fit in with other people, which is far more interesting. The assignments are not too bad. I'm not looking forward to transcribing loads of speech, but I like the look of this one: '"One must be an inventor to read well... There is then creative reading as well as creative writing." Discuss this in the light of your study.' Unfortunately I have to wait until May for that one.
As light relief from this self-imposed torture, Ms Fab, Mrs GSOH and I have started what is turning into a habit, and that's going out for dinner a lot. We have found each other rather good company and share a love of gossiping whilst eating until we can barely walk. We are, we have found, nicer people for being occasionally reprehensible.
It's funny how you can make almost instant friends with some people. I had spoken about two sentences to Ms Fab ('Hi! Son Number Two was wondering if your Son Number One would like to go to the football this Saturday?') and my friend-seeking radar said, 'She's my sort of person.' And she was. I can't remember the details of my introduction to Mrs GSOH, but I liked the way she marched down the corridor and smiled at me whilst threatening, between gritted teeth, to murder last year's Horrible Boys. At the same time, there are people I've worked with for over ten years that I wouldn't put in the 'friends' category.
Well, I've wasted enough time on here tonight. I am actually two chapters ahead on my course reading, so am allowing myself to go and read a proper book. And when I say 'proper book', I mean this:
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