Today, I had a teaching episode for which I was entirely unprepared. I made the executive decision to not attend my first two classes to figure out what I was going to do... went in with fragments of a plan... and suddenly, standing in front of the ensemble, everything clicked. I knew exactly what I was going to do in the rehearsal, and I knew how to effectively do so. For the first time, I felt like a teacher. That said, I still don't want to stay an education major. But I'd been very frustrated with my inability to do the things I saw my peers doing, so I was extremely satisfied to see things come together.
This is what the semester has decided to do for every single person I know:
The semester is like a child. It gets excited towards the beginning because everything is new and fun! But then it gets tired and doesn't want to play anymore. However, you have to keep going with this child in tow, and it becomes more and more unhappy. At the point I'm at right now, the child has sat down on the ground and is kicking and screaming, throwing a temper tantrum in front of everyone who is watching you barely keep your act together, and it claws at the carpet to gain traction against you as you hold the semester by the ankles and drag it with increasing difficulty to the finish line. You cannot let the semester win. You cannot let the semester have its way because it will destroy you.
There are two things in life that irritate me to the core: pretentiousness and uselessness.
However, when they exist in combination... Oh my GOD.
When you think you're amazing... and you're not... it drives me up the WALL.