/a/muse(d)

I hate to keep happy news to myself, so I’ll say this now:

I got targetted!!

Not in a ‘with a shotgun/arrow’ kind of way, but in a ‘the DET has offered me a permanent full time teaching position in an IO class in a large mainstream primary school in West Blacktown, to start in January 2006′ kind of way.

Woo Hoo!!

Many thanks must go to God - who knows exactly where he wants me to be and when, even when I do not. The cool thing about having to wait to be randomly rung up and told of your appointment to a particular place, is that I can trust that God will put me where he wants me and I have much less chance of potentially making an unwise decision! Mainly because I really don’t have much of a decision to make. I can’t really reject the offer, because I would ultimately be cast to the depths of the waiting list for teaching positions, never to see the flourescent light of my own classroom again; left forever to wander in the purgatory of casual teaching.

Knowing where I’ll be, and a little about what I’ll be doing next year makes me feel more secure, and means we can get on with planning next year a little more thoroughly. More details anon.

I’m excited.

Yeah, I’ve finished my degree. Woo Hoo!

I guess I’m now a qualified special ed teacher, so if you are in charge of a lovely, small SSP with great children and no behaviour problems, please give me a ring and offer me a job. Otherwise, I’m waiting to hear from the Department of Education.

It feels strange to have come to the end of four years of uni and suddenly to have it stop in the most anti-climactic of fashions. No tearful goodbyes, no taking of bazillions of photos, no waves of nostalgia. (Well, I did look over my shoulder at the green carpet, soaring raw concrete walls and upside-down wash tub type ceilings as I left on Thursday, so as to never ever let the beautiful scene fade from my memory…). But really, it all seems like a book that has a kind of ‘nothing’ ending.

I guess it’s partly because I never really got into the uni ‘vibe’. I did the work, I attended almost all of my classes, I got the grades, I did the pracs, I made the friends, but I never fell in love with the social scene. I didn’t spend hours sipping beer or coffee in the cafeteria. I didn’t make any ‘best friends’, and I wasn’t a rabid member of the cheer squad, the chess club, or the inter-varsity fooseball league. I did go to the Christian group in first and second year which was great, but even that managed to get run over by having to attend all those pesky classes. Yes, I know guys. I’ll obviously go to hell for that… I should be ashamed of myself etc.

In some ways I guess I would have liked to have a uni experience which was one great social gathering. But in others ways, I know I came to get qualified and be a light for Jesus at UTS. Both of which I have hopefully succeeded in doing. Uni was ehere God wanted me to be for the past four years, and I’ve done my best to please Him there, which is what really matters in the end. I’ve grown up alot at uni, worked really hard, written lots of papers, heard lots of words, and gotten myself as equipped as possible to be a good teacher. Time will tell how successful I’ll be in that profession.

For now though, I’m happy to do a bit of casual teaching, have a bit of a break and gradually switch my mind out of the uni-student groove into ‘big-wide-working-world’ mode.

Life continues to change at a ridiculous pace. Does it ever slow down?

Made this silly hat for a Mad Hatter’s tea party that I’m attending tonight. I’ve always wanted to go to a Mad Hatter’s tea party!

As I sit here, Ben is in the kitchen cooking dinner for us both - some kind of Bengali delicacy that smells exquisite. It’s part of a master plan designed to get me through the last two days of prac with my sanity intact. I’ve just completed the penultimate day, and Friday will be the last day of unpaid teaching I have to do ever. (I hope!) I’m still in control of all mental and physical faculties, (as far as I can tell), so it seems that his plan is working. I like coming home to random displays of compassion and affection.

Actually, I just like coming home.