Good morning from the teachers´ lounge somewhere on the edge of the Comunidad de Madrid.

I am typing away with my fingers as mindless workers and my brain a heavy sawdust. The habit of not being able to sleep early needs to stop now. 3 hours of sleep will not get me anywhere but a state of mild numbness.

It felt good to be back, but the feeling quickly evaporated into the cold mountainous air of Sierra Norte and I don´t know how.

I´m facing the same struggle: planning lessons that I don´t know how, specifically for the 1st graders. For some inexplicable reason, the younger the students are, the more difficult it is to plan their lessons. ¨Simple¨ things are just so hard to explain.

¨So, kids, living things are living. Non-living things are not living.¨

Such ridiculousness, explaining something so evident. But kids, they don´t know these things and have a lot to learn.

I´m already exhausted by the thought of trying to explain this subject.

In the midst of all these, my pheromones are acting up and out of control. Forcing me to think about the forbidden apple, they are powerful…and cruel. I could almost feel them scratching some internal organs inside my chest, leaving them to bleed slowly until everything is dry – all in the while as I fall into a bottomless abyss.

Sigh, feelings.

I better get back to lesson planning.

Please, let me get through these rough waves.

 

~Brisa

 

Advertisements