The Seoul Train

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The following is humorous.

Ann. What a wonderful job you did in a class that I didn’t really teach. You sat there eager to learn for every class of the entire summer term. I was of course there too but late most of the time. Not that I wasn’t present at our 학원, I of course, as a teacher, have to be and I abide, so the tardiness resulted from me hiding in the office on the look out for 원장님 trying to see just how many minutes I could clip off of the class I was to teach (without incurring a rebuke.) Ann, now don’t misunderstand me. it is not that I do not value you as a student but more that I don’t value myself as a teacher and consequently find it increasingly more difficult to take myself seriously during class.
You know, sometimes I wonder what exactly is going on in the middle of our classes. I of course have a lesson plan that would, in theory, act as a safety net of sorts, but that could only be a serious option if the net itself was taken seriously before hand. Damn nice thing the boss of the English 학원 is not anywhere close to conversational in the language- ill tell you a secret Ann, everything jotted down in that manila notepad, seriously looking clip board of mine is absolutejibberish. Ha! There it is! Nonsense! I said it! I cant understand much more of what I write myself on those wastes of paper than my language inept boss can! So that there is the explanation for those times when you see me pause stern faced but hazy and blank looking. Maybe even appearing a little lost…


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