Yes, another post in the same evening.
I've just worked my little (or not so little, see previous post) butt off writing a letter of application to give to my uni tutor tomorrow, and feel now that I deserve to sit back and write a load of rubbish.
I love being in uni, I really do. I love having a lie-in (7am, bliss), although admittedly I didn't particularly enjoy spending 10 minutes de-icing my car at -5 degrees this morning. That pre-icer you can buy, which you spray on the night before and then awake to a frost-free car? Lies. All lies.
I love the drive over to university as well. It takes about 40 minutes, during which I just sit back and watch the sunrise (it's 20-something miles of motorway; the car pretty much drives itself there whilst I gaze out of the window at the tree silhouettes and watch the sky change colour).
When I did my undergraduate degree, I had four hours of lectures a week. "Amazing!" everyone used to say. Yep. And exceptionally boring when all your housemates have the more normal schedule of between 3 and 6 hours a day and everyone on the same course as you insists on using their free time to 'struggle through the mountains of work we have' (er, sorry? What work would that be?).
This uni experience is totally different. I have lectures 9-4 (with 2 hours for lunch, admittedly) and I always look forward to them. There are four of us who stick together and we're usually the ones who leave with mascara-streaked cheeks from laughing too hard. We love just pratting about, but we do the work as well. In fact, we get a little carried away with it sometimes. One speaker gave us a 'write the next paragraph' exercise - we LOVED writing collaboratively and it resulted in us spending lunchtime completing an entire story, often laughing too hard to be able to actually write anything. Today's first lecture had me wrapping my arms around a guy I've never seen before and telling him about what I'd had for breakfast (honestly, we do whatever they tell us - sing, stretch, chant nonsense, write a poem - I've never come across any kids who are so blindly obedient. Zimbardo would have had a field day with our lecture group).
So far, the PGCE is one of the best things to happen to me (but ask me again in February when I'm struggling with behaviour and time management and searching for someone daft enough to actually employ me).
About Me
- April
- I'm a trainee teacher living in the South of England, wondering what on earth I've gotten myself into. Life tends to revolve around my horse, my boyfriend, Cookie Dough ice cream and Amaretto, although I do sometimes make time for shoe shopping. I'm generally fairly quiet until I'm comfortable enough with you to be loud - takes a while but you'll definitely know when you've reached that stage! I also have a running commentary of thoughts in my head, which is usually very different (and far more cynical) to what comes out of my mouth; kind of like Dexter, although I'm not an expert in one-liners. Or a homocidal maniac. I keep blogs generally out of boredom and somewhere to write down what I'm thinking: somewhere to share the commentary, I guess. Unfortunately they're censored by the fact that a few 'real' friends read them and so in reality there's a lot of juicy stuff that has to remain hidden, which almost defeats the cathartic element to blogging. I blog anyway, though. I also do know how to use paragraphs; I just don't know how to persuade this page to let me use them.
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