The bag was packed, new pens bought, they sat nestled in a new pencil case. The bag propped up by the door waiting ready to go.
The lunchbox was made with sandwiches prepared and waiting in the fridge.
Sunday night was bath and hairwash, an early night planned. Like it had been since before she could remember.
A uniform of black trousers and a shirt hangs on the door – ready to wear.
Lying in the bed she couldn’t sleep for thinking about her new timetable what the class would be like.
A disturbed night, tossing and turning, before the alarm rudely shouts into her subconscious, telling her to get up and face the day.
The madness of a school morning takes over, three children need to be washed, breakfasted and delivered to their respected places of education. All before I drive down the motorway to meet my new tutor group.
Yes people I am back, my sabbatical is over. Erin is fixed as best she can be and I am facing the madness of a new term and all it brings. This teacher is once again.
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