After studniówka — I survived. It was actually pretty good. I had a decent time despite a somewhat troubled stomach.

I’m more and more distant from the kids each studniówka because I’m older and older. The age difference is now thirteen years. I was a little insecure junior high student when they were born.

In some ways I think next year would be better in that regard because I teach them all so much — four hours a week this year, and hopefully the same next. I know them better. And to be honest, I like them more. Or rather, I like more of them. There are fewer Magdas, Izas, big Pawełs (from 4b — don’t teach him anymore, thankfully, but it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t like him). But part of me thinks it’s just wishful thinking. And not even terribly “wishful.”

Kinga and I sat with Ramzes, Agata, Wiola, and Adam, and I really didn’t even talk to any of the other teachers. We sat at that secluded, elevated table and so I guess by that action, showed that we weren’t interested in talking to anyone else. Or at least that might have been how it was interpreted. Such is life. They’re more pleasant to talk to than most of the other teachers. Dorota and her husband weren’t there, so that lessened the number of teachers I would have even be interested in talking to significantly.