My first week of being a student teacher was all that I had hoped for, but you know me…things happened. You may call them funny, at points I was dying inside. Feel free to laugh.
Firstly I was averaged out as 30 years old. I’m 22. She then tried to retract her statement and said that on a good day I could pass for 29. How kind. Just for your information I do not look 30, I do not have the wrinkles of a 30 something year old. However I have decided that she thought I looked 30 because I am wise beyond my years. I dare you to say different..
Secondly I was at school for 12 hours at one point. 12 sodding. 12 long. 12 excruciating hours. I should have set up camp. Not that I have any survival skills but you know I could have got by. It would’ve saved petrol anyhow. My car eats petrol like nothing I have seen before. It eats it faster than I eat chocolate on a really crap day. That’s super fast.
Thirdly a girl asked me why I had cut my ‘bangs’. I had to jump start my urban dictionary knowledge and figured out that ‘bangs’ means fringe. My block fringe is called a ‘bang’. Who makes up this shit? Who looked at a fringe one day and thought ‘that should definitely be nick named a ‘bang’ ‘? Like seriously. Anyway she said that my fringe looked ‘bare sick’ before I had it trimmed and that cutting hair is ‘peak times’ for all ‘peeps’ who do it.
I wasn’t prepared for this.
I’m not 30. My fringe isn’t called one of many ‘bangs’ and I’m definitely not 30.
30 is great. It’s a great age. But I’m not. In 8 years yes but right now no.