Ten past six in the morning, it was dark and exceptionally cold, a snowy blizzard had just begun and the exposure to the winter elements was harsh. The country lane he walked along to reach the village was narrow and, without the benefit of street lights he was grateful for his phone torch to lead the way. Finally, he reached the welcoming lights of the village and eventually the main road at the bottom of the steep hill. Waiting alone for the 6.25am bus to arrive, he was thankful to have shelter from the icy north-west wind.
Arriving at the city bus station the young man left the bus behind and walked a further fifteen minutes to reach his school.
Ten past seven and apart from the school caretaker he was the first teacher to arrive. The steaming coffee he poured for himself was more than welcome on this early January morning. Opening his bag he took out the maths worksheets that he’d prepared at home.
Being here so early gave him an advantage over other staff, there was no queue for the photocopier. He could, of course, have saved the task for his assistant but there was always the risk that she may not arrive, given how often she was ill. He needed to be organised by the time the children walked through the doors and he liked to be prepared for the day ahead. He picked up the books from yesterday, the ones he hadn’t had time to mark and moderate, he smiled to himself at some, shook his head at a few and was pleasantly surprised by others.
Mid-morning and the coffee break was spent in the chilly outdoors clutching his black travel mug; it was his turn for playground duty.
Lunchtime arrived, it had been something of a long morning and in more ways than one. He took his salad wrap from the fridge and whilst eating he took out a batch of notes from his case and read through them. As a subject leader it had become a weekly event for him to visit another local school to offer advice and assist and as today was the day, it would be a very short lunch break.
Half past three and the taxi dropped him back at his school gates. He exchanged pleasantries with colleagues and poured a cup of tea. In his classroom he began to tidy the tables before returning to the earlier task of marking the stack of books.
Six o’clock and after making a new stack of books on the corner table, the young man prepared for home. He pulled on his coat and picked up his bag, on his way past the staffroom he left his empty cup on the counter and left the building.
Twenty past six and finally he was on the bus home. After a few minutes he concluded he enjoyed riding on the bus, it was more relaxing than his car and it allowed him to think about the busy day he’d had and from this he could plan ahead.
It was seven fifteen when he walked through the front door of his home. At eight o’clock he picked up his laptop and continued with the planning that he’d begun in his head on the journey home. He gave a sigh and said to himself “Teachers… overworked and underpaid!
Footnote: This post was in response to a WordPress challenge. I chose two words from the daily word prompts (from last week). Exposure for which I chose to link to the weather and the word Overwork where I chose to expose a teacher’s day!