I need to figure out why I want to be an English teacher instead of doing manual work. After all the DIY tasks I've completed so far, I could apply for a handyman position. I installed the wooden bannisters in the front garden, and then I went to the back garden to continue with the staves. I need to apply two more layers of paint tomorrow, and once the last stave gets its colour, I'll drop the brush and won't want to hear anything about DIY. I wish I were three days older, and it was Sunday today. The locksmith will install the rest of the metal contraption tomorrow, so while I'll be painting the staves, he'll be noisy in the front garden. Another beautiful day to remember in the handymen's paradise.
I had an English class today with one of the A2-B1 students. She is seventy years old, and seeing how fresh she was was fascinating. She tries to keep herself mentally as fresh as possible and thinks learning language is the key. She's right, and she is an intelligent lady.
I returned home late, but this couldn't prevent me from applying another layer of paint to the wooden bannisters in the front garden. I hate my life right now. I'm kidding. But I surely won't see any screwdriver, sandpaper, brush, paint, or other tool. I'll bury myself under oodles of books and read.
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