When the end comes

Today was my last day at The Henry Box School. I have to say, I'm rather sad to leave, I've been very lucky to have a very good and supportive department for my first placement school, and I've made a number of good friendships there, not to mention some degree of rapport with some of the classes.

The other thing is that I have that weird feeling of anticlimax that comes from straining towards finishing something. It doesn't really feel like I've achieved anything, I've just got there, survived. It doesn't really feel like there's anything worth celebrating. Instead, I now drift into the purposeless limbo that comes from being in transition. I've become slightly aware of how much my identity and purpose comes from what I'm doing, and the classes that I'm teaching. Although it is nice not to have to worry about lesson planning for a couple of weeks (and possibly longer than that by the time induction finishes in my next school), not having any to do makes me feel a little useless. It's a bit depressing really.

Anyway, I've got my dissertation to keep me amused. In addition, there's a trip to Chippy tomorrow to see if I can locate my new school and then I'm off to North Wales. Let's hope that's enough to keep at bay potential despair at my teaching...