Maybe it is my mother’s nature to be friendly and sometimes a busybody, I grew up knowing my neighbors. I knew how many people lived in one house, whose husband had died, who was divorced and who did not get along with their in-laws. My immediate neighbor is a hawker and few individuals live in that house. There’s the pancake man and his wife, a relative and a mentally retarded girl. They have been my neighbors ever since my family moved in. Ah Yim, who is the mentally retarded girl is in her 50’s but she behaves like a child. She plays in the garden very often and sometimes messes the house. They love her but she can be very annoying and it gets on to their nerves so sometimes, they beat her and she will cry and scream as if she was abused. I grew up getting used Ah Yim’s annoying ways. Sometimes I get very upset at her too because she makes so much noise that it disrupts my sleep. Although Ah Yim is annoying, she is significant in the neighborhood because she is always in her garden and whoever passes by the house would know that she exists.
Yesterday, I came home and found their gate open with some tables and chairs in the garden. I thought they were having some birthday party when I noticed their alter covered with a red paper. Ah Yim had died. She was sick of late but nobody realized that she was terminally ill. They found her motionless in the kitchen after lunch and nothing could be done to save her. Mom always said that Ah Yim’s sister was heartless because she beat her but I think it was her way of teaching her a lesson after all, she was never trained to handle a special person like Ah Yim.
Ah Yim never really stepped out to see the world all her life. Her condition confined her to home and obviously she did not have many friends, Yet, relatives did come to see her last night to pay their last respects. Some even shed tears especially the sister who usually beats and disciplines Ah Yim. She said, Ah Yim bo liao (means Ah Yim is not around anymore) and tears flowed out of her eyes. I guess she must have loved Ah Yim despite beating her. She could have easily left Ah Yim somewhere else instead of looking after her for so many years. It was tough to have a sister like Ah Yim yet they tried their best. I am not sad about Ah Yim’s passing. I think she is in a better place right now. She has gone through a lot as a person with special needs for 59 years of her life and I think she is happily taking her rest right now.
May Ah Yim’s soul rest in peace.

I’ve pasted the grades for their assessment on the wall outside my room and students have been coming over eagerly to check on their grades. I could hear them commenting on it from my room. Suddenly, William walks in my room smiling from ear to ear asking me if the grades are for real. He could not believe that he did so well. Perhaps the additional satisfaction is to know that he did better than his sister for this assessment. I teach his sister too but she is in a different class, supposedly to be the smarter one of the two. The sister is younger by two years but is more domineering compared to him so much so that I thought she was elder.
William asked me if the grades are final and when I answered yes, he said ‘good’ and waved goodbye and left. I can’t help but smile for I know he put in effort in his presentation and he deserves to experience this kind of satisfaction even if it’s just for a while.

Brandy is getting very naughty. She does not obey orders anymore and of late, she sneaks out from the garden to go gallivanting. Her new interest is a tragedy to me as she poses as a nuisance to the neighbors. She entices other dogs by barking at them outside their gates and brings home fleas. Something out there seems to attract her very much but nobody knows what it is. That thing out there seems to be so important that she pushes her way through the fence despite getting herself stuck at times.
Today, my neighbors helped me to seal her little exit. My drug addict neighbor provided me the nettings and iron bars while the Mogan (another neighbor) provided me with the wire to tie the net. I had always disliked my drug addict neighbor because of his irritating habits but he helped me today and that little act of his made a little twist on my perception towards him. He is still annoying and irritating but he has a good heart after all.
I like my neighborhood because despite all the disagreements that we may have towards each other, we still care for all that happens towards one another. Honestly, if anything is to happen to that drug addict neighbor of mine, I would sure miss him. Of course, I do wish him well even if he never changes his ways. Oh by the way, Mogan dislikes that drug addict guy and Mogan and I actually don’t chat and I can’t imagine myself having a cup of coffee with him. So this is how interesting a neighborhood relationship can be. What prevents us from sitting together at the coffee table? I guess it’s what you call ‘ pride’.


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A few weeks ago, during mass, I told mum to pray that Sokha would be a good person, someone who will be able to attend to our needs. Mum laughed. I guess she underestimated my seriousness, not expecting me to think about such matters. I believed mum did pray for Sokha turned out to be a fine person.
Sokha only knows a few English words. She knows ‘yes, no, you’ and nothing more. Despite this little setback, Sokha has managed to impress my hard to please mother. Eventually, I trust my parents will treat her like their own daughter. I actually wonder how did the agencies treat them prior to this and what kind of training was given to them. Sokha seems to know her responsibilities without being told what to do. On her second day of arrival, I found her waking up at 6am and cleaning the kitchen. I did not remember myself telling her to do it. I am impressed yet suspicious at the same time. I hope Sokha was well treated throughout her training. I’ve heard sad stories about agencies misusing foreign maids and I hope she did not experience it.
I am grateful for having Sokha around. Grateful that I don’t have any problems with her as of yet. I wonder how Sokha feels about living and working for us. Guess only time will tell. For now, I am a happy person. I am finally breathing.

This post is dedicated to Dolph and Gabriel

who requested to see the muffins I baked. Yes I baked again last night.

Since coming home to Penang in May, mum has had good days and bad days. Each time she falls ill, it gets really bad. She becomes partially conscious and is almost unable to help herself at all. She will not be able to get out of bed and also bring herself to the toilet. It is really tough. For herself and also us. I know she is suffering each time this happens. Due to her body structure and weight, moving her is such a difficult task and she knows it. As a result, she avoids asking for help and that worsens the situation.

Indeed I am frustrated. I am not frustrated with my mother, I am frustrated with the situation that I’m in. How is it that she is sick when we did everything right? We gave her meals at proper times, we gave her the right dosage of medication and yet she still gets semi-conscious. What is wrong? I just cannot understand. Honestly I am tired, I am tired of not seeing fruits from my efforts.

Mum’s present condition is like a nightmare to me. I’m so scared to be in a situation I cannot handle. I don’t have any nursing background and I am bad when it comes to nursing old people. I can be present when it comes to tasks but lifting them is always a challenge for me. I don’t know how to carry another human being, what more to carry the aged whose bones are more fragile.

I guess I am feeling all these pressure because I am living alone with them and there is no one to help me. Morale support is important but I think physical presence is even more important . Perhaps that is why older people in the past age more gracefully and are better cared for. When there are more family members around in the house, the burden is shared and not one gets pressured. One will not get stressed easily caring for the aged in the family. For now, I am stressed because I cannot go anywhere for long hours because there is no one else in the house. I need to make sure my parent’s meals are prepared and they take their medication at the right hour. I need to adjust my time to fit to their routine. It is not a major sacrifice but it does effect me.

Sometimes I wished my family was like other’s family. I wished there were more people living under the same roof. To not have relatives coming in only during special occasions.

Everyone is telling me that I should watch ‘Money Still Not Enough’. because it reflects very much on reality. Many said they cried and was touched by the movie but I wondered what happens after that. Often, we cry when we watch movies that reflects upon our personal life. We feel good after that and say it is a very good movie, however, I wonder if that movie really leaves any impact because we still continue to stick to our old ways and habits……..
Today is a public holiday but I had moderation for my exam scripts at my colleague’s house. Before I went to her place, I decided to have my breakfast in Taman Lip Sin in a coffee shop located at the ground floor of some flats. As I was waiting for my prawn mee to come, I suddenly felt lonely. Everyone seemed to have companions to have their breakfast with. A young couple who shared the table with me discussed about what to buy from the market and cook for lunch. For a while, I wished that I had someone too to spend my holiday with.
The semester break is drawing near. My colleagues have all applied for their leaves. Everyone has a plan for the holidays except for me. I am tired of tasks and responsibilities, I just want to take a break to relax and do some things for myself but what can I do? I am partially frustrated and bitter that I have limited of control towards things due to circumstances.
I do not dislike Penang, I do not dislike my job but suddenly I wonder what happened to my dreams? I seemed to have lost the enthusiasm.

Dear Ms. Jennifer,
You have been such a great female species, very deadly....hehehe...Thanks for everything and for more good times.

I can't help it. My heart really melted reading those lovely message and receiving those flowers from them. I can't think of other things to blog about. It was indeed a very pleasant and touching surprise.

Everyday, we face different challenges. Sometimes we laugh off our problems, sometimes we complain about it. When we laugh off our problems, it does not mean we are not concern about it. Likewise, when we complain about our problems, it does not mean that we do not have a solution to it. Sometimes we tend to behave the opposite of how we feel because we just feel like doing it.
I am a person who likes to share. Sometimes I share my problems with people because I have to let my feelings out. Sharing and consulting are two different things. I share my problems with people because I want them to know how I feel. On the other hand, I consult people because I would like to listen to their opinions.
The problem is that many people do not know the difference between sharing and consultation. Many people respond to sharings by advising instead of listening. They feel that they have to respond and they offer advice even though I did not ask for any. Sometimes I find it frustrating and stressful sharing with these kind of people because instead of having the space to voice out how I feel, I end up listening to advices which I did not ask for.
Today, I voiced out how I felt to someone who has been constantly advising me each time I responded to her ‘How are yous’. I told her that I was not seeking for her advice and that I was just sharing my experiences for the day. She lashed out at me saying that I was ungrateful. She made the effort to show care and concern towards me and I did not appreciate it. I felt bad, but then again, she was not even listening to what I had to say, how can I appreciate her goodwill in the midst of my frustrations talking to her?

As I browsed through the Sunday Star this morning, an article on the front page of the paper caught my attention. An Australian family had pledged to provide a poor family with RM 350 per month for the next 18 years, until their triplets reached the age of eighteen. I was touched by what I saw.
A few days ago, the plight of the family was published in the newspaper. The poor family had difficulty coping with the unexpected birth of triplets in the family and they were struggling with the expenses. As donations started to pour in for the family, the Australian tourists decided to help the family on a long term basis, contributing RM 350 per month to the family until the triplets reached eighteen. I can imagine how grateful the parents of the triplets are to receive this kind of long term assistance. RM 350 may not be a lot to many but it is indeed a grate deal to many poor people. RM 350 can help to settle house rents (the rental for low lower middle cost flats in Penang ranges around RM 300 - 400), RM 350 can make sure that the babies will have cows milk instead of condensed milk to drink, RM 350 can help to nourish the family with reasonable meals….etc.
This article has brought happiness to me. I may not be the donor but I’m happy to know that someone has touched the lives of another. Why did the Australians do it?

“When Rose read the story in The Star, she felt very sad for the Woos as we were putting up at beautiful beach resort and eating good food while they had to struggle to make ends meet”
Lisa Kennedy

This Article here is taken directly from 'My Island in The Sun' by Khor Cheang Kee. I found it very heartwarming and I thought I'd share it with you. Perhaps it's because I share the same sentiments with the writer, after all, I'm a Penang girl myself ('',) wink*wink*

Last Saturday, I wrote that Penangites have the best brains in the country. Today, I am going to stick out my neck further, and claim another ‘best’ for the island. I have always held-and I will say it again here- that Penang girls not only make the best laksa, the best poh piah and the best curry kapitan, they also make the best wives.
I am prompted to come to defence of the Penang girl by a letter which I received this week from a clans-woman, Miss Ritiana Khor, of Glugor Lane, who very indignant indeed. She has just come across a recent comment by my fellow columnist, SH Tan, comparing the ‘unmade-up’ girls of Penang, wearing pants in the street and stomping along like boys, to the oh-so-feminine girls of KL.
‘I am mad and speechless,’ Ritiana fumes. ‘So will you, on behalf of all Penangites, please write on the unspoilt beauty of our girls, just as you have written on the natural beauty of our islands?’ ‘Our girls have different moods-the mood for fun in pants, the mood for dancing in formal gown and evening wear. They do not put on make-up because they know there is more to beauty of the face than just a layer of paint.’
Well put, Ritiana, I agree unreservedly that there is no charm more wholesome than in being natural, looking natural and acting natural. Our girls, I would imagine, are especially blessed with the attractiveness of being themselves. They certainly know their priorities. They are first and foremost Penang girls, and that is something special. They may not have the most sophisticated taste in cosmetics, but they have more than cosmetic beauty. They are feminine because they are feminine, and not because they are made to look feminine. Their beauty does not have to rely heavily on laboratory and surgical aids. But being naturally sweet and wholesome does not make them country bumpkins either. They can also demonstrate the parry and thrust of sharp minds. And they have the native wit to hold their own, if need to be. All this, plus virtues that make good wives, thrifty home makers and gracious hostesses.
The Penang girl is interested in people as people. She enjoys your company for itself and does not expect too many frills. She would sooner eat by a roadside stall (if the food is better) than at an expensive restaurant. But she is equally at ease dining and wining at a posh hotel, if that is where you insist taking her. Hers is a sunny nature with the friendly smile that goes with it. She sees the bright side of life, and takes things with a laugh. Even when you take a Penang girl to dinner and find, at the crucial moment, that you left your wallet at home, do not worry: her sense of humour will see you through.
Yet with all this happy charm, the Penang girl does not lack the gifts of the intellect. What I said last week about Penang having the best brains in country applies to women as well as men. For didn’t we provide the country’s first woman lawyer in Mrs. BH Oon? And our first woman representative at the United Nations, and first Ambassadress abroad, in Miss PG Lim?
In the field of fashion, too, Penang girls have blazed a trendy trail. The modern Penang nyonya see-through kebaya, with its delicate embroidered cut-out lacework, has made the London scene in a big way. It is now quite the thing, so I am told, to wear this bra-less and Kerongson-less, with the front ends tied at midriff level. What, one may ask, would our old-world grandmother have to say about this?
Still, all said and done, the Penang girl, I feel, represents the happiest compromise between the old and the new. To the more zany she may be old-fashioned than not, but isn’t there a song that says:
‘There’s something about an old fashioned girl
That brings back the long, long ago.
My heart sings in praise of her lovely ways
And envies her old fashioned beau.
The modern miss I know would be glad
To have the charm her grandmother had’
While our modern miss (in Penang) does not lack the charm her grandmother had, she also does not lag behind in making her impact on the contemporary scene.
Speaking of women and fashion, I like what the experts say -that the French are the best dressed women in the world and the Swedes the best undressed women.

Saturday, February 22, 1975
Khor Cheang Kee

Every Monday, I drag myself out of bed, wishing that we had 48hours a day during the weekends. Weekends are never enough for me. They pass by too quickly and before you know it, black Monday is approaching.
Last weekend was most fulfilling for me. He paid me a surprise visit and we did all we could to spend precious moments together. I really missed him since coming home to live in Penang. I missed having someone to talk and share things with. I was not prepared for his arrival, and I had many other things to do but I’m glad he came. It was sad to say goodbye yesterday, sad to see my happy weekend coming to an end. But then again, I’m glad and grateful that I got to see him, glad that I at least had the opportunity to spend some time with him. I don’t know when will we meet again, I guess this is the disadvantage of having a distanced relationship. People often say it will never work. I don’t know but I trust God to guide us through.

(Monday mornings...sigh...picture from the net)

Despite getting involved in unpleasant situations like the accident, I guess I ought to be grateful for the many things that surrounds me. I’m very fortunate that the weather has been fine since the day I took the bike to work. I’ve yet to be drenched on the bike while I’m on my way to work and I have not encountered with any difficulties using the bike. I am grateful too for the many people who are concern about me. Grateful that I have people who can offer me advice and help to ease my tension. I am grateful too that Patsy has allowed me to use her son’s bike for such a long period of time. How could I have managed if I did not have these form of assistance? Despite having experienced miserable moments in life, I still consider myself to be very fortunate for there has always been someone to pick me up each time I fall.

Puteri my friend is a DJ. She’s been on the job for almost a month now. I heard her on air for the first time today. She is not as good as Patrick Teoh but I’m proud of her. When she first told me that she got the job, I was happy for her. I was happy that she was about to do something she had always wanted to do. She is not lucky, she just put in more effort to get what she wanted and she was accepted.
I’m proud of puteri though I never expressed it to her. As usual, I acted cool and pretended that everyday was just another ordinary day when she broke the news to me. I am not expressive, I don’t go running after people telling them how happy I am for them. You can say that I am stingy with my compliments. Perhaps I need to learn how to be more expressive for the future.
To puteri, I’m proud of you though. For a first time DJ, you are doing fine. Can you please introduce me to the teacher who taught you how to read so well? I want to learn from her.

What happened to my dream? This is the question I’ve been asked by many. Have I forgotten totally about it?
The honest truth is that my dream at the moment, is the last thing on my mind. I’m now set in an environment where I do not live a life for me and myself only. My active involvement is vital in the current environment that I am in. Being new to the arena, there’s a lot for me to learn and there are many things that I cannot ignore.
Since moving back, my routine has changed and I’m still trying very much to adapt to this new environment. I’m still adjusting and indeed I do miss the personal privacy I used to enjoy back in Xavier Hall. I have put aside the many things that I used to enjoy doing because I still have not found a way to make time for myself without neglecting the things that I ought to do and at the same time not overtire myself.
As much as I love cooking, there is hardly any opportunity for me to explore in the kitchen. My parents hardly eat and there is no one to eat what I have prepared. Besides, my parents’ diet are pretty much limited and there are many ingredients which I need to omit if I am to cook for them. It’s very discouraging for me to cook when there’s no one to eat. For now, I’m taking a little break from the kitchen, but if someone with an appetite happens to come by, I guess I wouldn’t mind getting my hands dirty once again.

I have eaten more salt than you

After spending a day out, I was looking forward to spending an evening for myself, to do some reflection, read a book and rest early. Five minutes after I began my relaxing evening, in walks cousin “who has eaten more rice, more salt” than I. The end to my beautiful evening.
“I was in Aunty T’s house last week, she told me that you are back in Penang already and asked me to visit you, so I mah come and see you lor. I want to see if Australia has changed you or not, check whether you have lost or gain weight”
“Yeah right!” I thought.
“ So you still want to bake cakes ah? Before you went you said you want to bake cake and sell. So how now?”
I never told him that I wanted to bake cakes and sell (eventhough I did consider it before), it was him who forced the idea into me, he insisted that French Confectionary was a sure high profit generator and forced me to agree that I should bake those cakes and sell. Constantly indicating that I’d be a fool if I do not venture into it.
And so, my three hour ordeal with him began, I was questioned for not remaining in Sydney when opportunities were right in front of my nose. I had a one and a half hour quack lecture on how to do business, he fed me with tons and tons of suggestions of which I wondered why he never considered to do those business himself.
“You all (me and my sisters) are lucky, not like me, you know ah, I have gone through moments in life when I had nothing to eat you know, and yet I survived. You all don’t know what I have been through. Some people are lucky, they are born with the silver spoon in their mouth, they don’t understand what suffering is like. I have experienced it all lah, you ask my friends, they can tell you what I’ve been through. You all are lucky and smart, you have a degree, I‘m not smart like you all, I don‘t have a degree, but I‘m not stupid also you know, I also can think very creatively one”
And he went on and on and on about the business ideas and constantly reminded me that us the Vaz sisters are luckier than he is because his parents were hopeless. My mom on the other hand enjoyed the whole ordeal. She found it amusing to see him attacking me, what more to hear him constantly say that she was a better parent compared to his parents. He continued harping about me wasting the opportunity to settle down in Australia when I had the chance and that I am not brave enough to be a risk taker and venture into my business.
I was fed up and tired, I asked him if he was willing to move into our house and look after my parents while I pursue my dreams in Australia in accordance to what he suggested. He stared at me and shut up for at least five minutes. That five minutes was glorious.
Before he left he said, “haiyah, I did not know you have moved back here because you wanted to look after your parents, no wonder, I could not understand why you still chose to come back from Australia.”

=.=!!!
Deep inside I thought, “duh, I tried telling you all these while but you just wouldn’t listen.”

10 years ago, a man, whom I saw as an elder, locked me in my own room and kissed me on my lips. I was very young and naive then. I only pushed him and moved away from him. He asked me why? I said, I didn’t like it and he questioned me for not allowing him to show love and affection towards me. It was a common thing for us to greet each other by kissing on the cheeks but I was sure that his kissing of my lips was definitely of a different intention. I managed to free myself and walked out of my own room. Since that very moment, my disappointment towards him never seized. I even told my mom that I wanted to stay in my friend’s house because I could not face him. I never told my dad about it because I did not want hurt my dad’s feelings due to his relationship with that man. For 10 years, I successfully avoided him. I managed to pretend that he never existed in my life.
A few days ago, this man appeared with his bags in my house. He had come to Malaysia for a holiday and had asked to spend ten days in my house. I was freaking mad for two main reasons. Firstly, he came unannounced, expecting us to provide him with some Malaysian hospitality when we ourselves were struggling with our challenges at home. Secondly, I did not want to have him coming into my life after what had happened 10 years ago; yes, I was scared that history would repeat and of course I did not want to feel insecure in my own house.
And so, I vented my anger by sharing with those whom I thought would understand. I gave him names. I called him a “Nightmare” and “headache” and I cursed him behind his back. I felt good because all who lent me their ears agreed that he was indeed a nightmare. Today is his second day in my house. Though I’m still weary of his reputation, my anger towards him has been diluted. In fact, I do sense some guilt within me. I feel bad for calling him names. I feel bad for backstabbing him. I felt that I was being unfair towards him. Though he forced a kiss on me before, it doesn’t mean that I had the right to destroy him the way I did. Yesterday, I bought him satay and nyonya kuihs on my way back from work, today I planned to bring him out for dinner and tomorrow, I might actually bring him to town just for an outing. I have no motives in doing so but it does not mean that I’m totally fine with the person that he is. I keep my distance from him, no body contact at all, not even a handshake. Each time I walk into my own room, I lock the door immediately. Yes the fear is still there and it always will be

My blog has been neglected of late. I have not forgotten about it neither was it intentional for me to neglect it. I tried to post new sharings on the blog but each time I tried to type something, my brain seemed blank. It was as though I was suffering from some sort of mental blockage. I’ve only completed my second week as a lecturer but I feel as if I’m mentally drained. Yes, my friends, I’m mentally exhausted. The phrase “Thank God it’s Friday” means so much to me these days.
My workload is not suppose to be that bad, my working hours are way lesser compared to my previous work, yet I feel over worked. I am inexperience in what I’m doing. Being new in the teaching arena, I have to study and revise before I meet my students so that I will not teach them the wrong things. Sometimes, I have to think of different approaches in dealing with the classes because the characteristics of every class is different. My days are bright when the lesson is well, however such days are rare because I often make too much mistakes in almost everything that I do.
Wednesday was the worst of all the days. First, there was a two hour blackout in campus, then I received a call telling me that I was in charge of some “book review” competition. After that call, I was notified that I was also in charge of the college debating team with another lecturer and that we were to stay back once a week after office hours to train them. On the very same day, I got lock out of my own staff room and had to drive all the way to town to get another set of room keys from my friend because the office hours were over and there was no one else in campus who had the key. After that disaster, my car door handle broke also on the very same day. On my way back from that terrible day, I got caught in a three hour jam because some smart Malaysians felt that they should fill their petrol tanks before the price of petrol increased.
My experience on Wednesday was a perfect explanation to what the word “miserable” meant. Yet, I’m grateful that I survived. Not a single day has been smooth sailing for me and I foresee rough moments ahead, but I guess such experiences are bound to happen and perhaps it is through such experiences that I learn to become a tougher being. Another three months of rocky roads perhaps?

I have yet to start teaching according to the syllabus. Instead, I have spent this whole week trying to know my students and their competency level better by playing games and giving them essays to write. It sounds simple and easy but the workload is heavy, I have more than two hundred essays to read through and marking these essays is a challenge to my brain.
Each time I look at the pile of essays on my desk, I shake my head and wonder why on earth did I make them write those essays.? As if I have all the time in the world to mark all of it. Though it can be a mental torture, I do somehow enjoy reading those essays., an expression of themselves through writing. Many of those essays are very personal and are not meant to be read out loud. I admire my students for their openness to express what is within them, to share their personal feelings through their work.
I am glad to have given them essays to write. Those essays has served as an avenue for me to know my students better. Reading those essays changed some of the earlier perceptions I had towards my students and I believe it will help me to be more effective in my classes. Ambitious I may sound, but I’m actually tempted to see my students individually when I give them back their essays.
As for now, Jenn has stopped cooking for the time being, she marks papers during her free time.

To be honest, what happened to me on Monday did discourage me from being positive minded. I was exhausted, discouraged and miserable. I saw myself unworthy as a teacher. Being a person with low self esteem, I’ve always considered my level of English competency to be average. Therefore when I discovered that half of my class consisted of students who got A in their SPM English, I felt like running away from the class and shooting myself. To me, I was unworthy to be their teacher and of course I was afraid of embarrassing myself in their presence. As I drove home that day, I asked myself if I had taken the right path.
Perhaps it was God’s way of preparing me to be a better teacher. Fortunately for me, unlike the rest of my collogues, that Monday’s class was the only difficult class for me. My other collogues had more than one challenging class to deal with. I questioned God on Monday for putting me in such a difficult situation and dragged my feet to college the very next day, dreading to face the other classes for fear that the worst had yet to come.
Interestingly, I changed my approach towards my classes on Tuesday and I realized that things were not that dreadful after all, Wednesday improved and today, I faced that horrible class for the second time. Surprisingly, my fear towards my students disappeared, I did not see them as a threat anymore. I was relaxed in their midst and I honestly believed that God purposely put me in charge of that class for a reason. So that I may bug up and push myself a little harder in my new profession.