Routine 2
You walk by the flagpole area. There would be times when you arrive early enough for the flag ceremony. You turn right, and then left, towards the machine that asks you to “enter your fingerprint” after swiping your ID. You usually give way to the other people who will swipe too, knowing that your shift starts at 9AM, and theirs probably started already. You are usually more than an hour early for your shift. You then read (or try to make sense of) the messages on the bulletin board, and see if any of the announcements will concern you or your students. On some days, you withdraw money from the Landbank ATM.
On days that you are early (before 7:30AM), you still encounter students in the front lobby, and each group will have its turn in saying “hi sir”. You respond by either nodding or smiling. Sometimes you do not respond at all, again due to your shy nature, or if there are other male teachers around (since they might be the “sir” they are referring to). Most of them will comment that you look like you are “bagong gising”. You conclude that you’re an expert in looking like such.
You turn to the stairs. Reaching the second floor, you will walk past the CISD and SSD, then walk up to the fourth floor. This has always been your path of choice, and more students pass by and greet. It’s harder to recognize the faces now, since the halls are badly lit. You check the Math Bulletin Board, if the things you posted are still intact. You proceed to the Math Faculty Center, where you spend most of your time.
You greet the teachers inside earlier than you, and you place your bag on your chair. You check if there are messages or other stuff placed on your table. You rest for about 10 minutes while chatting with people who still do not have a class. You turn on the Math Unit PC. You remove your commuting shoes, and place your feet inside your leather shoes. You look at your really worn out commuting shoes, plan to buy a new one, but postpone it since the shoes are still functioning (though already ugly) and you find it hard to let go (plus you’re extremely kuripot). You bring out your uniform for the day, and prepare your grooming stuff. You then proceed to the washroom, supposedly exclusive for male faculty, but there’s a good chance that a student is inside.
You wash your hands. On extremely polluted days, you wash your face again (if not, your happy spray will do). You change your clothes. You then fix your hair. Contrary to popular belief, you do not enjoy fixing yourself especially your hair. Students might be surprised to see a somehow unkempt you on weekends. Your hair is very unruly, and you need quite a strong product to keep it in place. If you had it your way, you would have your hair long, but your work doesn’t allow that. You also wanted to keep it really short, but you will be perpetually mistaken as a student. It takes time for you to be satisfied with your “sculpture”, knowing that the electric fans in the classroom will eventually ruin your creation.
While waiting for your classes, you continue chatting with Math colleagues, while doing schoolwork. You check quizzes, record scores, or prepare pad papers. Sometimes you find time to check your mail. You look at your outline for today, and make mental notes for your lesson/activity for the day. These are prepared days, even weeks before. Teaching the same subject for four years makes you practically a master, and you constantly think of ways to give your lessons a new twist (and hope, your students notice). The second bell rings, you get chalk, and you enter your arena.
You greet the students, settle them, and proceed with your 45-minute show. Usually, you are surprised to hear the bell, but there will be days when the period seems to go on for two hours, combining your sleep-inducing time slot, the uncooperative weather, and the prevailing nonchalance towards your subject. Hence you tap your inner genius/wacko to give keep them on their toes. Super corny jokes are common nowadays, and apparently, you can keep up with them, ready with a rebuttal any time a new one pops up. You wonder who’s the cause of this “corny-ness,” but you’d like to think it’s not you.
Lunchtime. You wash you hands, and go down four floors. You encounter current and former students along the way. You have always wanted to have a ticker (or whatever you call it) to count how many times you are greeted in one day. One of your coteachers comment that you are suplado to them, but you think otherwise. You are just not as verbal in greeting. In this short time span, you are somehow updated on some of your former students, and you like that idea.
In the cafeteria, you usually find it hard which viand to choose, but you always settle for heavier meat; fish just won’ last that long digestion-wise. You sometimes buy a half-order of a vegetable, and occasionally, you pick a dessert. Before, you have your microwavable container and place half of your lunch there. This is multi-purpose: you are not as full when you get back at your afternoon classes, and you have something to eat if you get hungry. You also save money supposedly for your merienda. You are trying to revive this habit of yours, but there are days when you can eat a horse.
You are back in the Math Faculty Center, and talk with coteachers about anything. You head again towards the washroom, this time to brush your teeth. Before the bell for your class rings, you try to grab a nap on the sofa, but throwing funny stories with your click is just way more fun. You never noticed that half your day is done already.
*to be continued*
On days that you are early (before 7:30AM), you still encounter students in the front lobby, and each group will have its turn in saying “hi sir”. You respond by either nodding or smiling. Sometimes you do not respond at all, again due to your shy nature, or if there are other male teachers around (since they might be the “sir” they are referring to). Most of them will comment that you look like you are “bagong gising”. You conclude that you’re an expert in looking like such.
You turn to the stairs. Reaching the second floor, you will walk past the CISD and SSD, then walk up to the fourth floor. This has always been your path of choice, and more students pass by and greet. It’s harder to recognize the faces now, since the halls are badly lit. You check the Math Bulletin Board, if the things you posted are still intact. You proceed to the Math Faculty Center, where you spend most of your time.
You greet the teachers inside earlier than you, and you place your bag on your chair. You check if there are messages or other stuff placed on your table. You rest for about 10 minutes while chatting with people who still do not have a class. You turn on the Math Unit PC. You remove your commuting shoes, and place your feet inside your leather shoes. You look at your really worn out commuting shoes, plan to buy a new one, but postpone it since the shoes are still functioning (though already ugly) and you find it hard to let go (plus you’re extremely kuripot). You bring out your uniform for the day, and prepare your grooming stuff. You then proceed to the washroom, supposedly exclusive for male faculty, but there’s a good chance that a student is inside.
You wash your hands. On extremely polluted days, you wash your face again (if not, your happy spray will do). You change your clothes. You then fix your hair. Contrary to popular belief, you do not enjoy fixing yourself especially your hair. Students might be surprised to see a somehow unkempt you on weekends. Your hair is very unruly, and you need quite a strong product to keep it in place. If you had it your way, you would have your hair long, but your work doesn’t allow that. You also wanted to keep it really short, but you will be perpetually mistaken as a student. It takes time for you to be satisfied with your “sculpture”, knowing that the electric fans in the classroom will eventually ruin your creation.
While waiting for your classes, you continue chatting with Math colleagues, while doing schoolwork. You check quizzes, record scores, or prepare pad papers. Sometimes you find time to check your mail. You look at your outline for today, and make mental notes for your lesson/activity for the day. These are prepared days, even weeks before. Teaching the same subject for four years makes you practically a master, and you constantly think of ways to give your lessons a new twist (and hope, your students notice). The second bell rings, you get chalk, and you enter your arena.
You greet the students, settle them, and proceed with your 45-minute show. Usually, you are surprised to hear the bell, but there will be days when the period seems to go on for two hours, combining your sleep-inducing time slot, the uncooperative weather, and the prevailing nonchalance towards your subject. Hence you tap your inner genius/wacko to give keep them on their toes. Super corny jokes are common nowadays, and apparently, you can keep up with them, ready with a rebuttal any time a new one pops up. You wonder who’s the cause of this “corny-ness,” but you’d like to think it’s not you.
Lunchtime. You wash you hands, and go down four floors. You encounter current and former students along the way. You have always wanted to have a ticker (or whatever you call it) to count how many times you are greeted in one day. One of your coteachers comment that you are suplado to them, but you think otherwise. You are just not as verbal in greeting. In this short time span, you are somehow updated on some of your former students, and you like that idea.
In the cafeteria, you usually find it hard which viand to choose, but you always settle for heavier meat; fish just won’ last that long digestion-wise. You sometimes buy a half-order of a vegetable, and occasionally, you pick a dessert. Before, you have your microwavable container and place half of your lunch there. This is multi-purpose: you are not as full when you get back at your afternoon classes, and you have something to eat if you get hungry. You also save money supposedly for your merienda. You are trying to revive this habit of yours, but there are days when you can eat a horse.
You are back in the Math Faculty Center, and talk with coteachers about anything. You head again towards the washroom, this time to brush your teeth. Before the bell for your class rings, you try to grab a nap on the sofa, but throwing funny stories with your click is just way more fun. You never noticed that half your day is done already.
*to be continued*
posted by mardan at 9:53 PM
1 Comments:
lalem...
whoooo...
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