4 weeks on

Time has done that strange stretchy bouncy thing where it all seems distorted. Today marks my first payslip of the new job, and what amounts to a month in the post. Yet that just consists of 20 working days, 2 of which were child-free. And yet it seems like forever.

When I don't know the names of pupils in my classes I feel incredibly guilty, and yet I've only encountered some groups four or so times. I keep seeing teachers I've never seen before, and yet I still don't know the names of the heads of year. It does make me feel insecure, and yesterday as I drove to work I was wistful for some adult company in the workplace - particularly any kinds of conversations that do not revolve around classes and bad behaviour.

Halfway to half-term... but I don't want to keep wishing away my time...