My Life after CELTA

In every man's life - and I'm referring here to the male population - there comes a point where one must endure the discomfort of a medical examination. Yesterday, I let my valve, which usually lets matter only out, be exposed to an intruder in the form of the finger of a urologist. Apart from the embarrassment one feels while lying on the examination table half-naked like a sun-bathing frog on the pavement and being exposed to the look of a significantly younger female assistant, the whole procedure was only mildly unpleasant. Not to mention one's “precious part” that shrinks and gets as tiny as a poppyseed grain when diving into icy waters. This is the effect cold examination rooms can have on men's anatomy. There goes your manhood in a split second. Thankfully, the immediate result was reassuring, all clear, and it took the mortification away. Once the doctor finished his part, I hastily grabbed my jacket and scuttled down the stairs as an Olympic sprinter, wanting t...

Our neighbours made our day by getting back to normal. I was genuinely glad to see how they reduced the extent of their domain and left the required space between their plantation and our cars. It is comforting to know they are still open to dialogue and don’t want to wage war on their neighbours. Although it took us a couple of restless nights and some brain work to ask and convince them to do so. However, despite this good news-induced elation, I still was anxious. I wanted to look into the current situation and clarify some issues that required the involvement of the water supply company and a lawyer. Little did I know how smoothly will things turn for the better. After calling at the water supply company, I learned a few pieces of information, which was reassured by the lawyer, so, in the end, it all panned out. When I hung up the phone with the lawyer, my mind came to a standstill. The weight disappeared, and my eyelids started to slide down. The hand of the gauge of my anxiety sh...

As the first rays of morning scratched my eyelids and I tried to goad myself out of bed, I immediately knew today would be a terribly inactive day. Another heat wave was in the air with all its side effects. I really am stumped as to how weird the end of February is. While I was pondering this phenomenon, the birds were singing their early morning songs with a pinch of confusion in their melody, which was palpable. It seemed to me that they didn't get why the weather was so mild at 6:00 a.m., either. Despite having brilliant plans and world-changing thoughts yesterday, my pre-breakfast pathetic mental state was mind-crushing. After several unsuccessful attempts to untangle the mental knots and restore clarity in my grey matter, I gave up the effort and focused on my breakfast. So many things are on my plate that it is difficult to concentrate on anything but these pesky tasks. I'm a little miffed if I'm being honest. Anyway, I browsed the web with little success, looking fo...

Were there ancient civilisations whose scientists foresaw the portents of today by any chance? After checking the calendar this morning, it dawned on me that 02.24.2024 might be translated by the standards of numerology as judgement day. Suppose we apply the rules of theoretical mathematics, where solving an intricate equation requires the use of an unknown factor, or we twist something that, in fact, wouldn't need to be twisted; we might agree that by switching the numbers of February, we might find ourselves in some long predicted ordeal that occurs only on this date. Just like the Mayan calendar envisioned doomsday. However, if this is the end of the world, why worry? And why have these thoughts emerged unexpectedly from the darkest nooks and cronies of my mind? This remains a mystery to me. However, reality struck me hard after waking up from another short and not-so-memorable sleep. The repercussions of the previous days have left their mark on today. Waking up with gold-fish ...

Little did I know how much the events of two days ago, when the so-called garden issues arose, would affect my subsequent days. But they did. I spent my nights turning and tossing because my thoughts revolved around finding a peaceful solution that every party concerned would find beneficial. My brain was working like a steam machine, and my ears were oozing thick fumes like two enormous industrial chimneys. I was bashing my head against the wall until Ági came up with a brilliant idea, which completely changed the course of the events. What seemed impossible to solve became evident. Once the fog cleared up from my frothing mind, I buckled down to craft a letter. I did some research in the hope of finding clues and evidence as to how the land was divided, used, and maintained and how we’ve shaped customary law for almost a quarter of a century. Audentes Fortuna Iuvat. Boy, was I elated when I crafted the first draft? Still, despite the first success, last night wasn’t free of awakening...

Everything changes. Well, this isn’t entirely true, so let’s rephrase the sentence: apart from a couple of things, many things change. The variables of life ensure a diverse array of unexpected events. So, despite our mind endeavouring to create a pattern in which the items repeat themselves unaltered, we must confront various unanticipated predicaments. Take, for instance, the shared garden we maintain with our neighbour. Initially, our agreement to divide the plot into two seemed harmonious and efficient. It seemed to work quite well for years until our neighbour, fancying themselves a horticulturist, grabbed some herbs and planted them in the middle of the overgrown weeds on their plot hardly larger than a queen-sized bed sheet. Fast forward to the present; they tripled the size of this weed-rich piece of flowerbed, and the entire area resembles a cartographer’s rendition of a long-forgotten medieval county. Now, one of the sides of this agricultural spectacle extends as far as the ...

My day was about lesson planning for two of my beginner students. Crafting their lessons took unusually long because my night was not something a sane individual would want to cherish in their lingering thoughts. These early morning awakenings make me as mad as a sack of frogs. I wouldn't be surprised if I croaked - or spoke like Kermit the Frog - instead of uttering coherent sentences one morning. Anyway, back to lesson plan crafting: I enjoyed it despite my insomnia's inhibiting factor, hoping my students would find my classes helpful. When I completed the plans, I took Abby for her afternoon walk. Since the weather was unusually mild, I thought I could take a longer jovial jaunt with her. With this thought-to-be-perfect concept in my mind, I walked confidently until we reached the first crossing. I looked at Abby to check how she was and saw this fatigue oozing out of her eyes. She was begging me not to continue the "journey", so I had to call it quits and take her...

Commencing the eighth week of 2024 means there are only 44 weeks left of this year. Time flies like an arrow, and fruit flies like a banana. Never in a million years would I have suspected how much my perception of time would change over the years. But it did, and I still need to figure out how. When I was a teenager sitting on those uncomfortable wooden benches at grammar school, I always thought time stood still on several occasions during the day. Interestingly, I wasn't alone with this impression, as my peers had similar experiences, especially during those terrifyingly boring subjects whose teachers were so annoyed by teaching us that their disgust was written all over their faces. I remember looking at my watch, and the second hand wouldn't move. It quivered and shook as it tried to continue its dull routine. It stood over one of the notches and wouldn't go any further. I silently screamed at those occasions when an hour seemed like a whole year. Contrary to these ear...

Another week is almost over, with only a few hours left of it, which means we've passed the middle of February. Reflecting on the past six days, they revolved around a handful of topics: teaching, dogs, sleeping, and the exceptionally warm weather. What an exciting life we have, innit? Speaking of thrilling existence, I finished the CELTA course this time last year, one of the most memorable events in my life. In retrospect, it wasn't that difficult. However, when I was dealing with the lesson plans and considering all the details we learned while crafting and executing the lessons, I experienced another wave of angst. I was terrified. My anxiety level was so high that it almost reached astronomical levels. Still, it was a one-of-a-lifetime experience, and despite wanting to quit several times during the process, I'm glad I persevered. But enough of this malarkey, let's get back to this week. The unusually warm weather ensured the restless nights. Neither of us could sl...

When I woke up this morning, I knew the day wouldn't be an active one. Nothing sinister happened that would have suggested anything unexpected; it was rather one of those intuitions that depicted how the events of the day would unfold. This gut feeling strengthened when I grabbed Abby's leash and took her for her early morning walk. She was as inactive as I was, and the speed and length of our walk corroborated this theory. We ambled back to the house momentarily. After this painfully short-lived stroll with a surprisingly exhausted canine, I sat in front of the TV, munched my breakfast and slurped the much-needed black nectar in the form of a strong espresso. What a surreal still-life this was. Especially considering how many episodes we have watched from one of the currently watched series. As my system started to absorb the caffeine, switching my wee brain into the first gear, the haze dissipated over today's schedule. Harnessing this ephemeral clear state, I rushed into...