Decisions, decisions

I am writing this blog with swollen red eyes and a splitting headache. I've just had an argument with my mum which was tantamount to World War Three. I told her I'm leaving EF, cos I simply cannot bear the students anymore, and she flipped out. She kept murmuring on about how I do not want to work and how I'm not like 'it-tfal tan-nies' and how I worry her everyday and this naturally led me to flip out too and start shouting louder and louder until I burst out crying and stormed to my room. I know I could have made a sacrifice and kept on working at least a single shift yet I hated every second of it and dreaded it day in day out. Do not get me wrong, it is not like my mum is the type that gets all hot and bothered about money and work. What she gets all hot and bothered about is the fact that she thinks that lazing about all summer long will turn me into some sort of cabbage and will reduce my mental and social faculties. I really would like to work but teaching is just not the thing for me, and she should understand that I am entitled to avoid spending every night dreading the following morning. I do sometimes feel like a loser and a quitter but at least I will have done three weeks of full days of teaching(9-4.30) so the guilt is considerably reduced.

I am worried now. I went to university to ask about changing the course and I have to wait till September for an answer. While I am positive that they will let me switch to a B.A. course, I am quite scared that they will not let me do an Honours in English, which means that I either have to repeat first year or else stay in B.ed (noooo)... For a while yesterday I felt really sure that everything was gonna be ok but now it all still seems too good to be true. Mum is expectedly disappointed because she once again views giving up on teaching as an act of low self-esteem and a high degree of laziness, but for once in my life, I am well and truly convinced about something. I do NOT want to teach. Period. The funny and yet tragic thing is- I knew this all along. I know myself well enough to know that teaching is not my kind of job. However, I repressed it so as to be on the safe side. That's the funny way I am wired up. Anything goes as long as it's safe. I am an anarchist's walking nightmare. Anyways now I just have to wait and see.

Last Monday Desiree came over and we had a lovely night in- laughing and talking and giggling and watching a really nice film. It's called Stranger than Fiction and it is about a man who, one fine day, starts hearing a voice narrating his own life as it happens. Which is oddly resonant, since I often find myself narrating my own life as I float absent-mindedly from one place to another. I hope this does not mean I need to get a life. I wish I could blog better but I am truly exhausted after staying up watching The Count of Monte Cristo with my sister till two last night (Gorgeous men have to be appreciated), teaching all day long today, crying and shouting a lot as well as lesson-planning (the joy). These are tiring days but I think that finally I have grown up enough to know what I want and to try and get it. I will go and rest now and keep my fingers crossed for next Sepember's decision...

Till next time, take care
Lizzy
xxxx