Final Assignments
Despite sitting in front of the damn computer at the uni library for the last three days
and
Depleting my coin on increasingly more potent caffeine and energy drink
and
Telling my subconcious to focus more on teaching literacy
Rather than monsters and falling and poison
...and Isla Fisher
I find my assignments have still not written themselves
And I am again thinking that a brickie's labourer is probably the most satisfying job in the world.
Labels: Teaching
4 Comments:
After a decade in higher education, sitting here navigating the pointy end of a thesis has made me realise that you are utterly wrong about the brickies labourer.
A council worker with a shovel and a sun hat or a mechanic.
THAT'S the life, my friend. None of this pursuit of higher knowledge bullshit.
...or what about one of those ladies who works at Haigh's with the white gloves who hand out free samples?
I'd hate to be a teacher, I really really would
Isla Fishers fame when Tempany Deckert was reduced to taking coats outside a nightclub for a living is oddly justice don't you think?
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