I know it’ll all die down.  I know everyone’s doing their best.  I know it’s just going to take a week or two for everything and everyone to get settled and back to normal.  BUT!

My head hurts.  My feet hurt.  Every muscle in my body aches.  I feel like I just ran a marathon after fighting in a war during which a tank ran me over.  Why the physical exhaustion?

I’m now the “proud” secondary mother to 20 five-year olds and 3 four-year olds who know NO English whatsover.  Sounds and words may be coming out of my head, but I’m not actually communicating with my mouth.  I’m speaking with my body.  My jumping, dancing, thrashing, gesturing, worn-the-fuck-out body.

And pencils?  Books?  Crayons?  NAMES?  Apparently, the higher-ups at my school forgot that these were going to be somewhat necessary for effective teaching.  So while I’m not wildly demonstrating “take off your shoes and don’t eat that paper and for the love of GOD stop licking me” via body language, I’m frantically running up and down 3 flights of stairs desperately searching for supplies and time to suck down the occasional cigarette.

Why, oh why did I insist on teaching this particular age and English level, again?!?  And to think, this week only consisted of two work days!

Kill me now.  Just kidding.  I think.