four more hours

A pupil has just looked out the window at the grey skies and remarked, “I can’t believe it’s almost summer.” I can – and I can’t wait. And I only have a couple more hours to survive.

This is my last day at CHS. I have mixed emotions really. I’m exhausted, so relieved to have some time off; I don’t have a job for next year, so apprehensive about what the future holds; I may never see a lot of the people here ever again, so there is a touch of sadness; oh, and a little bit of guilt. You see although I said it’s my last day at CHS it isn’t actually the last day of the school year. Ridiculously we are expected to come in for a single day next week. They are having a half day on Monday to finish everything off. I’m down to supervise the party – I won’t be.

I will be in Leeds on camp with a bunch of immature teenagers and two other, even less mature, leaders. While I am supposed to be standing imposingly in the corner of an assembly hall I will probably be living in a tent.

I will let them know that I won’t be able to be at school on Monday so they can arrange appropriate cover (maybe hire a couple of heavies to take my place) but every time I try they look so hurt at the suggestion that I would even consider missing my last ever day here. I hate the hurt look – I’m a pushover sometimes. Apparently the English department are planning an informal get together in my honour. I feel terrible that people are being so lovely while I am slinking off into the darkness.

But I think I’ll find the time to get over it while I’m relaxing with a couple of dozen good books over the summer. Au revoir CHS, et bon chance.