Hello my name is Jack
Today I started teaching again. Instead of a bunch of teenagers overwhelmed by their own hormones, this time my class was conformed by sweet lazy evil kids ranging 12-16. Contrary to what common sense dictates, this kids weren’t easier than my former students, and I felt like I was talking to a room full of autistic monkeys. Indeed, I think a random group of average monkeys could understand half what I’ve said better than this kids. Next saturday things will be different. I hope.
Procrastination is consuming me. I worked only an hour and half and a half, and the rest of the day I felt tired, burned. Is there any doctor in this room? Is it possible to be tired after talking almost completly for 90 minutes? If I talk 90 minutes, is there any chance of being mistaken by a tape? If I’m a tape, will you label me? And if I get to the next label level?
Valenzine complained about my imageless blog. You know, this is not a kids’ book, but I understand you. I know reading my blog is hard sometimes. So, well, to keep in touch with my scissory audience, I drew a fascinating doodle of myself:
This is me, pants down.
You can request drawings now. A house. A tree. A pink elephant. A dragon eating two chinese guards that were previously playing badmington in the top of a pointy japanese building. Go nuts.