So, the title says it all, really. Today has been good, in that I read the draft reference that Olivier wrote for me and nearly wept at all the cute things he said, I wrote an entry for the school blog that made Olivier's wife weep, and all three classes so far have gone without a hitch. I also got called "witty." Which was nice.
I am glad to say that I HAVE NO MORE SECONDES. EVER. *party*
I am so utterly relieved by this fact, you have no idea. They are the most unpredictable, volatile and downright scary age group I've had to teach, no joke. Some classes have been little angels, others the spawn of Satan. Mercifully, today's groups were the angels. I think Olivier deliberately intervened and gave me good ones, after last week's Hour of Horror, and they did pretty well. Now I have an hour to kill before I go and check whether my two Terminale girls are going to show up, and then a lovely 8:30 start to look forward to in the morning. Awesome.
I have a little nugget of excitement to share now. Queen's sent an email around with information about a French summer school taking place in Co Kerry in July and August, which needed activities organisers (animateurs) and teachers, to help out with 14-16 year olds and give them a Full Oirish Experience. Naturally, I applied straight away ;) It sounds a pretty sweet deal - a Teacher has three hours of classes, five mornings a week, for £12 an hour and full board accommodation, for ten days. Travel expenses are included.
I figured that after this year this summer school gig would be a piece of cake, and Excellent Experience to put on my CV (if I get the job, that is!). I could have applied to be an animateur, which is full-time for a month, but after reading that these folk have to do activities like abseiling, kayaking and hiking, I almost laughed out loud. There is NO WAY I could ever do these things, let alone in front of a groups of teenagers, who would laugh cruelly at my ineptitude. So I am content with being a sensible Teacher, and I'm glad the hours of nicking stuff off the British Council website will come in useful once again.
When I told Olivier about it, he said, "You must be mad." His concern was that, after spending seven months here and then a whole month of Spanish school in June, I would be exhausted, and the thought of voluntarily seeking work over the summer was utter insanity. Ahh, les français.
The lady in charge is going to phone me at home over the weekend to let me know if I've got the job or not. HOW EXCITING! My first weekend home, and I'll learn if I've to leave it again or not. Still, after seven months, ten days is nothing. So I am genuinely excited about this one, and really hope I get it! Wish me luck!