My procrastination skills don't hinder my OCD tendencies apparently, because I just couldn't leave this without "properly" ending my non-existent blogging of TP experiences.
THE ONLY THING RELEVANT ABOUT MY 2ND TP IS THAT I SURVIVED TO TELL THE TALE (WHICH I AM NOT GOING TO BECAUSE I REFUSE TO REMINISCE ABOUT THAT).
The only things I want to remember about my TP are that
- I made good friends with the other TP teachers (because we all suffered as one and gathered in the staff room after every lesson to sob and lament and be maudlin together)
- Whatever I had with them brats was the biggest love/hate relationship I have EVER experienced in my life (now I know what it feels like, wanting to cuddle and murder someone - actually, about 60 adolescents - at the same time)
- My master teachers were good and I liked them and they liked me (or I like to think so at least >.<)
- And most importantly, I have mastered the art of yelling at and disciplining hormonal adolescent boys with thorns in their asses LIKE A FOOKIN BOSS and, as my Uni professor told me, "If you can handle them, you can handle everyone else now." (My dad was a bit less eloquent, "Now you have the ability to yell at other more idiotic classes.")
That said, I don't want to go into detail about all the bad things that happened - but let's just say that three of my classes flopped due to the school management's mistake and which I had to suffer for. (Now I know what it feels like to come crawling home and just literally cry for hours).
BUT. All that is done and dealt with. I'm not even thinking about whether I passed or failed. The end.