The Three Week Itch

After a lovely, leisurely, adventure filled six weeks off work at the school, I'm now back within its gates and settling into my new timetable, getting to know new students and reacquainting myself with the ones that have returned. Three weeks down the line and it's already starting to feel like I've been there for a whole term. I know I'm not the only member of staff to be feeling that this week as the school settles into its routines and the once sweet, fresh faced year seven's really start to find their feet and show their slightly more confident - and sometimes cocky- colours.

The honeymoon period is definitely over and I've resigned myself to the fact that although this job was supposed to be a stop gap it's actually looking like I'll be there longer than originally expected. I mean I'm starting two after school clubs for Christ sake! For anyone that works outside of education let me tell you: basically once you're put forward for extra curricular groups that's it - you're officially part of the fixtures and fittings because you're deemed reliable and responsible enough to do it, organise it and run it and they don't expect you to bolt anytime soon.

I'm emotionally confused about how I actually feel about all this.

On the one hand I actually quite enjoy my job slightly more than I let on. I like being able to help students in their learning, I enjoy and get a great sense of achievement when they finally understand something that was before a complete mystery. When all is said and done, even though it's hard work sometimes it's very rewarding.

The other hand however has it's fingers slightly more in touch with reality and is screaming at me that I can't stay in this job forever, because that's just it, this is a job, it's not a career and the longer I stay at the school the more frustrated I get at not achieving my goal of returning to the world of media work sooner rather than later. Not for lack of trying though, as I keep the applications flying out and an eye open all the time!

I feel very angsty at the moment. I don't think the fact that I'm turning 25 at the end of the week helps. Teetering on the edge of officially entering my mid-twenties - my quarter-life and the continuing crisis that goes with it - makes me feel more anxious about actually getting round to making some big life decisions. Here (in no particular order) is what I actually question myself over day in, day out:

• Do I want to stay in London?
• Should I save some money and head back to Leicester?
• How can I fiesibly make some extra cash so I might be able to go travelling? Sex lines out of the question while working in a school!!!
• What extra, outside fun work things can I do to keep my brain ticking over?
• Fun things cost money, so where do I get that from seens as I don't have any?!
• If the writing stuff's not going too well, what could I actually retrain as and do for a career?
• Should I be doing more to be a better writer? 

I've been told by those closest to me that I should try and relax about it and not fuck myself up over it too much. Well bollocks. There they are, and that's what wears my tired little pin-head out constantly. It's not like the student days where all you had to decide was, 'Do I get the three bottles of cotes du plonk for a tenner or eight cans for a fiver?' or the more important, 'Am I too hungover to go to lecture today?'

It's not that I have a problem with being grown up, I think I handle all that quite well, I mean I can go to work with a hangover and get through it if needs be, the term "man up" has become my mantra; it's more the lack of direction that's doing my head in. Perhaps come Friday when I turn the big 2-5 it'll all just magically fall into place and I'll vanquish my quarter-life cirsis just as I reach a quarter of my life (assuming I live till a100 years) or at least that's what I'll wish for when blowing out my candles.

.....Failing that I'll take the more reliable route of drinking to forget on Saturday. Three bottles of cotes du plonk please!

RoseC -x-