1. The teacher's room is almost as good as Starbucks.
Imagine going to Starbucks...and getting whatever you want for free. Yeah, that's pretty much what the teacher's room is like--a free coffee buffet. There is free coffee all the time, and so many things to stir in it that you can make your own zebra hot chocolate with non-fat milk all by yourself! I don't know if the taxpayers over here are just willing to spring for a few extra levies or what, but coffee and tea seem to constitute a fairly large portion of each school's budget. Each school has it's own tea lady who is paid to make sure the coffee and tea are never in short supply (among other obvs lesser things). In fact, the school I'm at now has a wall-length cabinet housing all of the chinaware the teachers can use.
And use them I do. Who knew coffee, sugar, and dehydrated milk could taste so good? It's so good that I don't even mind shaking in my seat and having to pee every few minutes.
Anything that gives me the stamina to stand up to thee classes of 37 9th graders in a row is worth it!
2. We have a huge, wall-mounted plasma TV.
When my Dad bought a huge TV for our house, my sister and I joked that he must be going through a mid-life crisis, because no one actually needs a TV that big. No, Daniel, not even you need a TV that big to play video games on.
Well, I take back everything everything I said in disparagement of that TV now. The teacher's room has the biggest, shiniest, most beautiful TV. It is my shining beacon of hope when I struggle back, disheveled, from my overwhelmingly rowdy third year class, or when I arrive at school after biking through torrential rain. Yes, that TV is the smbol of relaxation and well-being.
Of course, I can't actually see it from my desk, which is so far in the corner that it's almost in the hallway, and it appears to only project satellite images of Japan's current weather, but its mere presence is enough.
3. It is a shelter from the storm.
So, middle schoolers are kind of loud.
I shout myself hoarse to be heard in class, and have occasionally been known to send stern looks at particularly naughty students...or, you know, just happen to call on them for the hardest question that I actually may have made up on the spot just for them.
In the hallways, I am chased by hordes of students screaming "Lindsay Senseeeeeeei!!!!1!1" and creepily stroking my hair from behind, who all desperately need to know whether or not I have a boyfriend or if I think a certain actor is cute. Hint: If his hair is as long as mine and has obviously been in rollers half the day, there is no way he can be considered either masculine or attractive.
As much as I appreciate being told how beautiful I am at every corner (which may have something to do with me promising As to those thoughtful students who compliment me so), I like it somewhat less when it's being screamed into my right ear.
Which has coincidentally been popped for most of the day...thanks, Ayaka. :(
The teacher's room is my respite from these wild and crazy kids, where I can sip my coffee, sugar, and reconstituted milk in peace. Yum!
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