Monday, 21 February 2011

2-week Holiday, Rubbish Weather And A Town I'm Starting To Be Able To Pronounce

Sometimes you just have to take your hat off to the French: they're barely back at school for six weeks and they decide to have another holiday. Magnificent. I remember the agony of the Michaelmas Term at school, lasting all of 78 weeks with a measly 9 days for half term (weekends either side included) and cannot help but feel that this truly is the life. However, it does raise an interesting point: aged 7 to 18, I spent roughly 40 hours at school every week, holidays aside, and thought nothing of it; it was just what one did. Now, however, owing to the vaguaries of a languages' degree that rewards end-of-term assignment and end-of-year exam cramming, without any sort of continuous assessment, I find the notion of a 40-hour week utterly abhorrent; surely that's some form of child/student/Charlie abuse!? Case in point: one of my BTS classes (they're doing archaeology) never seem to cease working, being made to do hours upon hours of coursework, exam preparation and other dossiers. I can only imagine that this activity is vaguely reminiscent of what I probably had to do at school (albeit at a younger age - these students are between 19 and 22), but that part of my life has completely fallen out of my memory now; anything beyond 14 hours per week is now beyond my comprehension. I feel reality may hit me rather hard when I arrive in Frankfurt to commence my internship...

You might have noticed that the titles of my posts sometimes don't refer in any way to the content of the post itself. I have; I quite like it; it keeps people on their proverbial toes. For that reason, I shall be talking about neither the weather nor the town I can now just about pronounce (Mansles - I blame the southern accent of the person who first told me how to pronounce it...order has been restored now). I shall instead leave you.

Charlie x

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