Because before becoming a teacher, he was little ...
December. 1981. 2e year.
It is early, but the excitement is already present. The class is excited. Prof. Air beast installed the tree and decorations alone because they did not break something. They started tinkering Christmas classics, such as fir or with cotton wool snowman with three balls of Styrofoam and felt. It also works to write a letter to Santa with the new words learned from beginner since September. Him, he does not write to Santa. First, it does not even know if he has an opinion about its existence. And if there, well it's really too scared to write it in more. Password again to accept his gifts. But being as thick as thieves, wooh engines!
Then he draws. He likes to draw. Everyone tells him he is good. Not the " which is good at drawing! "no goal to launch all the time parents. Rather, the " Ouch! Ty good! Ouch! Voer c'qu'y'a just made! "of her class. And when it comes to those who do not speak to him, it's even more appreciated.
For him, the drawing is another world. It is immersed in his imagination, immerse themselves. It is also one of the few things he is proud. Then he gives it back. So thoroughly that it borders on autism and is sucked into a parallel universe. Like when he watches TV and as when, much later in his life, he played video games.
Suddenly, he was brutally extirpated scrawled his nirvana. It looks a sheet on which there may be a dragon who eats fish or insect strange playing cards, to find himself nose to nose with Air Prof. beast that has what it gave this nickname: look stupid.
And rightly so! It was stored in Christmas projects there are 20 minutes and circulated a quick test of additions and subtractions whose time has now passed. It is trying to retrieve the sheet for each student she became aware he was drawing again. She is furious and his jowls tremble with indignation. She bites her drawing, tears in her nose, took the sheet of math and rushes to his office to put a "zero" all red. He
hot. It's like being on fire. His eyes sting. And he realizes he has a desire Pee which alone reaches the threshold pressure LG2 dam. Because, in his parallel universe, he has no specific need: never go hungry, never sleeping, never need another, never want to pee. He raises his hand and she gives him the right to speak against his will. What? Go to the bathroom? No way! How can he expect such a "favor" after what just happened. So it
patient, he grits his teeth, he thinks of anything but water, a swimming pool at the falls. He is unable to concentrate on the lesson. He dreams of a urinal. From a tree in the woods. Stop on the edge of the highway. He watches the time of recess of the afternoon. The bell saved him.
When it rings, it's the rush traps. There is snow in December, still usual thing at the time. Prof. Air beast about to leave the classroom behind when students remark that it is still there. He weeps bitterly and she must believe that it is the crying shame of a boy who has been baffled by his mistress. But they have nothing warm tears, because they are the ones, bitter, scorned pride against his will. Pride which now lies at the foot of his chair in a pool whose color will fool no one.
Is she disturbed? Shocked? Guilty? Repentant? He could not say. But in any case, the replica it serves him, he will hate the far end of the year. "If you had not been unpleasant, I would have let go. But there ... In case ty! Stay inside for recess after bad, well you'll have to patients. You will change your home. She is mean, that's what it is.
He remained at recess and the concierge came clean with a smile that was meant comforting. He spent the rest of the afternoon to marinate in its own juice, in the damp cold despite the heat, his pants and his pants marked the buttocks down the left leg. At the end of the afternoon, it was expected that all students are out, walked down the wall until his locker and dragged through the corridors to prevent others in the court. On returning home, despite his snow pants, he felt the bite of cold on this moisture smelly. In passing the door of the apartment, he shot straight to his room and was changed before to attend to his mother, taking care to conceal the traces of shame in his wash bag.
Yes, it was wicked. Not to pee, no. Because she had destroyed the tranquility of his parallel universe. There is never more at peace, fearing any leakage.
December. 1981. 2e year.
It is early, but the excitement is already present. The class is excited. Prof. Air beast installed the tree and decorations alone because they did not break something. They started tinkering Christmas classics, such as fir or with cotton wool snowman with three balls of Styrofoam and felt. It also works to write a letter to Santa with the new words learned from beginner since September. Him, he does not write to Santa. First, it does not even know if he has an opinion about its existence. And if there, well it's really too scared to write it in more. Password again to accept his gifts. But being as thick as thieves, wooh engines!
Then he draws. He likes to draw. Everyone tells him he is good. Not the " which is good at drawing! "no goal to launch all the time parents. Rather, the " Ouch! Ty good! Ouch! Voer c'qu'y'a just made! "of her class. And when it comes to those who do not speak to him, it's even more appreciated.
For him, the drawing is another world. It is immersed in his imagination, immerse themselves. It is also one of the few things he is proud. Then he gives it back. So thoroughly that it borders on autism and is sucked into a parallel universe. Like when he watches TV and as when, much later in his life, he played video games.
Suddenly, he was brutally extirpated scrawled his nirvana. It looks a sheet on which there may be a dragon who eats fish or insect strange playing cards, to find himself nose to nose with Air Prof. beast that has what it gave this nickname: look stupid.
And rightly so! It was stored in Christmas projects there are 20 minutes and circulated a quick test of additions and subtractions whose time has now passed. It is trying to retrieve the sheet for each student she became aware he was drawing again. She is furious and his jowls tremble with indignation. She bites her drawing, tears in her nose, took the sheet of math and rushes to his office to put a "zero" all red. He
hot. It's like being on fire. His eyes sting. And he realizes he has a desire Pee which alone reaches the threshold pressure LG2 dam. Because, in his parallel universe, he has no specific need: never go hungry, never sleeping, never need another, never want to pee. He raises his hand and she gives him the right to speak against his will. What? Go to the bathroom? No way! How can he expect such a "favor" after what just happened. So it
patient, he grits his teeth, he thinks of anything but water, a swimming pool at the falls. He is unable to concentrate on the lesson. He dreams of a urinal. From a tree in the woods. Stop on the edge of the highway. He watches the time of recess of the afternoon. The bell saved him.
When it rings, it's the rush traps. There is snow in December, still usual thing at the time. Prof. Air beast about to leave the classroom behind when students remark that it is still there. He weeps bitterly and she must believe that it is the crying shame of a boy who has been baffled by his mistress. But they have nothing warm tears, because they are the ones, bitter, scorned pride against his will. Pride which now lies at the foot of his chair in a pool whose color will fool no one.
Is she disturbed? Shocked? Guilty? Repentant? He could not say. But in any case, the replica it serves him, he will hate the far end of the year. "If you had not been unpleasant, I would have let go. But there ... In case ty! Stay inside for recess after bad, well you'll have to patients. You will change your home. She is mean, that's what it is.
He remained at recess and the concierge came clean with a smile that was meant comforting. He spent the rest of the afternoon to marinate in its own juice, in the damp cold despite the heat, his pants and his pants marked the buttocks down the left leg. At the end of the afternoon, it was expected that all students are out, walked down the wall until his locker and dragged through the corridors to prevent others in the court. On returning home, despite his snow pants, he felt the bite of cold on this moisture smelly. In passing the door of the apartment, he shot straight to his room and was changed before to attend to his mother, taking care to conceal the traces of shame in his wash bag.
Yes, it was wicked. Not to pee, no. Because she had destroyed the tranquility of his parallel universe. There is never more at peace, fearing any leakage.
Number of hours worked: Number of paid hours 00.30.00: 00.00.00 Income: 0 Expenses 000.00 U.S. dollars: 000.00 U.S. dollars 
0
0 
0 
0 
0