It seems like I spend a lot of time writing lessons that I get halfway through and decide are too difficult for my students.
Came home last night, let us say, inebriated and could not remember what I had planned to teach this morning, only that there was a plan. Decided to have faith in last week’s foresight. And then my video file was corrupted. Fell back on the fact that they were slow on last week’s lesson, which bored them. It bores them again, but is more productive than before.
So there are the four who have gone to sleep–and who can blame them, it’s first thing in the goddamn morning–the one who holds her head like it currently pains her to exist, the few who absolutely refuse to clap, and the girl in the last row who eagerly nods her head every time I say “Ok?” or “Are you ready?” She is, at least, a small comfort before my morning cup of coffee.