You know, I really don't want to be a teacher.  I've gotten a taste of it this semester, especially the past couple days while I've been teaching on my own, and I really hate it.  I hate their smug, stupid expressions.  I hate their laziness.  I hate their lack of effort.  I hate the awkward silence that follows when I ask a simple question that they should have known by the second week of French I.  I hate their complete lack of concern for their grades.  I hate their complete disinterest in any culture other than their own.  I hate teaching.

I know that there are great things about teaching - I keep hearing about what a difference you can make in someone's life, and how wonderful it is to inspire someone to learn.  Well, you know, maybe I'd experience some of these wonderful things, but I really think I'm a terrible teacher, I think.  I have no patience for the students who don't try.  They drive me crazy!  Over half of the time that I walk out of the classroom this semester, I feel defeated and frustrated.

As you might guess, teaching isn't going so well.  My classroom teacher assures me that the lesson was fine, I did a fine job, and that every student teacher feels like this after their first lessons.  I suppose we'll see after tomorrow.  I know I have to go back, but I really would just like to pull the covers over my head tomorrow and stay at home and never go back a high school until my son is attending one.