Dry eyes caused by contact lenses worn for too long, PMS, irritating buggers from work and accumulated piles of (half-assed) work done by said buggers, have compelled me to start this entry with a loud, resounding AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

It's a Monday today, which really doesn't improve things. Of course, out of the four things I mentioned in the previous paragraph, two are due to my own procrastination (as always) and I attribute the PMS to biology - yes, PMS is scientific. You wanna argue with a hormonal neurotic female? Huh? HUH???

Just kidding. I was highly irritable and sensitive all day, and it was until my second last period of the day, when the revelation of PMS being the cause of the moodiness hit me.

We had 13 teachers absent today, just short of 2 to beat the latest record of 14. Mdm H., the teacher in charge of delegating the relief duties, was up to her spectacles in timetables and Post-it notes. Tuan came to help the Humanities Department today, and I had to give him a morning call at 5.30a.m. so we could be at the school by 7.05a.m.. Anyway, today's timetable was horrendous with a capital 'H'. First two periods were with 2A3, the most notorious sec 2 class, and because the relief-allocation thing took so long, I was already 15 minutes late. Needless to say, chaos greeted me - no, chaos LEAPT at me the moment I stood at the door. My highly sensitive RT-radar immediately detected that The Monkeyboy Fortress of the class was extremely strong i.e. there was practically a fucking anti-homework, anti-teacher intervention FORCE FIELD. Hence, at 8.30a.m., a time when most mortals would probably be only half-awake and their ears highly sensitive to anything above approximately 30 Hz, I used my Shouting Voice. I don't like to shout at students, and I'm sure everyone has bitched about a neurotic, curmudgeon of a teacher at some point of their lives, so in addition to making the students displeased (and hopefully, intimidated...hurhurhur.) I also made myself annoyed. The scratchy feeling of a strained throat is not good way to start a day.

Three periods of break followed, before I had to face the most devilish sec one class, 1T1. Barely 5 minutes into the lesson, I used the Shouting Voice twice and got groped by this chubby snot-faced creep FOUR TIMES. Yes, I was molested and I didn't realise it until the third time. I was talking to a particular group of girls when the Monkey Boy Patrol of that class surrounded them and proceeded to pelt them with paper balls. Then I felt someone tap my arm - technically not a tap because it was a sliding of about one inch before a slight squeeze. Now, before you think I'm paranoid and it's just the PMS hormones on a roll, think about the last time you actually physically touched anyone of your teachers.

Exactly. Since we were wee little tots, we've heard our parents tell us, "Don't talk to strangers." The lengthier version of this nugget of wisdom would be: "Don't talk to strangers, don't get too physically close to strangers, don't go anywhere a stranger wants to take you and for heaven's sake, don't let a stranger touch you." Okay maybe not exactly that per se, but it's something we all (should) know right? Your teacher, no matter how friendly, is still a stranger in many, many ways. By touching him or her, you are treading into the dangerous territory of "OVERLY-FAMILIAR", which is not good.

The first time it happened I was kinda startled and turned around to face the chubby terror. He said that he wanted to use the toilet, so I took the "tap" as an attempt to catch my attention in the midst of all the paper-throwing and shrieking. The second time it happened, I actually brushed his hand away and frowned at him. "Nabil, can't you see that I'm talking to your classmates? Can you sit down first?" I started to scold the culprits and my back was turned towards him. The third time he touched me, I DISTINCTIVELY felt his hand slide an additional half-inch down my arm and I whipped around and exclaimed, "Stop touching me!" AND THEN, he TOUCHED ME AGAIN, barely after those 3 words left my mouth. What. The. Fuck.

I wish I had a camera at that very moment to capture the perverted smirk on his face, for further proof when I report him to the Discipline Master.

One of the girls pulled me aside and told me that Nabil is a molester who likes to touch girls on their hands, shoulders. faces and buttocks. The thing is, NOBODY has dared to report him. Outrageous or what? -In WWF style- HE'S GOING DOWNNNN!!!

The primitive antics of 1T1 never cease to exasperate even the most experienced teachers in the school. They're not like your regular "you call me bastard? Teacherrrrr! XXX used a bad word!!" -cue little boys trying to wrestle- or the harmless but freaking irritating group of boys clustered around an mp3 player attached to speakers, drumming in unision. Think Tom and Jerry, like when Tom grabs a vase (or any other heavy injury-inducing object) and attempts to whack the living daylights out of Jerry, who jumps around in a comical panic-induced state. Think Vikings, Neandarthals or hairy cavemen clubbing one another on the heads with heavy clubs. Their fights and their pranks ALL have enormous damage/ injury potential, such as walking behind rhe seats of unsuspecting classmates and tipping them out of the chairs, causing them to fall painfully on their asses. I don't think I need to list out the dangers of that one.

1E5 was my last class, and they're also hell of a noisy lot but I didn't have the strength to yell or walk around anymore. I was dizzy because of all the blood rushing to my head from the horrors of the previous classes. I could literally feel the blood pressure rising and the blood boiling under my skin! The adrenaline ebb gradually drained me of so much energy, and this coupled with the fact that I was having my period, caused me to sit down before giving the instructions: "Sit down, do your own work." I'm usually very particular about students spending their time doing productive, academically-related stuff when I step in to "babysit". Therefore, I walk around the class, breathing down the necks of students who don't have anything work-related on their desks. However, the nagging guilty feeling that I was being a tad too irresponsible was overcome by dizziness and in that state, I actually said something like, "If you all want to use mp3 player of handphone, please be discreet." Tsk tsk tsk. So irresponsible, I know.

Okay, I'm seriously very tired.