So it seems official
I've been accepted into the Faculty of Education, or at least they're already asking for money and a police background check. So unless this is an elaborate way of jerking me around and that 'Congrats, you're in' letter was icing on the cruelty cake I can stop worrying about it. If all goes well in a few years time I could be responsible for molding young, impressionable minds.
Think of that and tremble.
I have to confess that I'm pretty pleased with myself. I had such a hard time getting my application ready and my job counselor said she didn't know a single young person she'd met through the program who was accepted into the local faculty. Most, she said, had to apply to teacher's college in the States. Either my grades were more impressive than I initially thought or my job counselor just wanted to prepare me for the worst. I tend to think it's the latter, she just wanted to make sure I had a game plan in case things didn't work out. I had pretty much given up on the idea of teacher's college by the time I found out I had been accepted.
If anyone cares the program I applied to is 'Junior Intermediate History.'
We (Alex, dad and I) also cleared out my apartment and moved everything into storage for the fall. Fun. Injuries were minor (though dad got a nasty cut on his head) and we didn't kill each other (always a possibility when we're moving, tension tends to be high) so that's good. The storage unit dad rented sight unseen was far too small, so we moved into one of the larger units and left a message saying that we'll pay the difference. Hopefully that's enough and we wont get a message admonishing us for 'stealing' a unit and informing me that my stuff has all been dumped out on the curb. It is pretty strange to think that everything from an apartment I lived in for three years can fit into a (still fairly small) unit. It was pretty impressive that we managed it, thank God for Alex's years of Tetris.
Unrelated, this cracks me up (Warning, Reborn! video):
...What? I think Squalo abuse is funny. And Squalo and Xanxus are hot. Seriously.
Yes, I could be a teacher, isn't that SCARY?
Think of that and tremble.
I have to confess that I'm pretty pleased with myself. I had such a hard time getting my application ready and my job counselor said she didn't know a single young person she'd met through the program who was accepted into the local faculty. Most, she said, had to apply to teacher's college in the States. Either my grades were more impressive than I initially thought or my job counselor just wanted to prepare me for the worst. I tend to think it's the latter, she just wanted to make sure I had a game plan in case things didn't work out. I had pretty much given up on the idea of teacher's college by the time I found out I had been accepted.
If anyone cares the program I applied to is 'Junior Intermediate History.'
We (Alex, dad and I) also cleared out my apartment and moved everything into storage for the fall. Fun. Injuries were minor (though dad got a nasty cut on his head) and we didn't kill each other (always a possibility when we're moving, tension tends to be high) so that's good. The storage unit dad rented sight unseen was far too small, so we moved into one of the larger units and left a message saying that we'll pay the difference. Hopefully that's enough and we wont get a message admonishing us for 'stealing' a unit and informing me that my stuff has all been dumped out on the curb. It is pretty strange to think that everything from an apartment I lived in for three years can fit into a (still fairly small) unit. It was pretty impressive that we managed it, thank God for Alex's years of Tetris.
Unrelated, this cracks me up (Warning, Reborn! video):
Click to view...What? I think Squalo abuse is funny. And Squalo and Xanxus are hot. Seriously.
Yes, I could be a teacher, isn't that SCARY?