Don't be afraid to act more like a pirate...

So here’s the thing. I’ve had a revelation. A big one. Mega. Are you ready for it? Are you? Drum roll please….

We shouldn’t work too hard.

Ta da. You like it?

Now I know what you’re all thinking. Something along the lines of ‘No shit, Sherlock’. Am I right? Or maybe you’re just making a noise: Durr. Of course we shouldn’t work too hard. Work is rubbish. The only good thing about work is home-time. Or lunch-time. Or the bit when you’re booking holiday.

So far, so obvious. Hard-Fi have been saying it for years; we idle away the working week because we’re all about LIVING FOR THE WEEKEND, man. Yeah. Don’t worry; I have a point. Stick with me.

Sure, we all resent work a bit, and inboxes and printer jams and spreadsheets and the word ‘commute’ are basically some of the most awful things in the world. But somewhere underneath it all, I think most of us believe working hard is a necessary part of life, and something you just have to do if you want to be successful or, you know, buy stuff.

Today I received indubitable proof that too much hard work IS A BAD, TERRIBLE AND AWFUL THING.

The next time you’re tempted to stay late at the office, do unpaid overtime (or any overtime for that matter), or start pissing around replying to emails on your Blackberry on a Sunday, just remember the following story…

Last week I received advance warning that I would have my dreaded annual teaching observation at some point this week, but that it could be in any one of the lessons I teach. Cue 5 days of insane working, replacing both sleep and showering with caffeine, writing reams and reams of incessant planning and tracking materials, and being permanently prepared to launch into uber-professional, super-organised teacher mode should an observer turn up to any of my lessons.

Today it finally happened. The observer-lady arrived at 9 this morning, and watched me deliver a thrilling lesson on fancy-sounding verbs and why eggs are a symbol of treasure (the yolk is supposed to be GOLD, yeah?).

Anyway, long story short. After all my hours of making beautiful resources, finding inventive ways to explain the words ‘anoint’ and ‘sepulchre’ to people who don’t speak English, and writing a lesson-plan longer than my arm, this is the main feedback observer-lady had to offer…

Feel free to act like a pirate.

I kid you not. Her actual suggestion was to not be afraid and just GO FOR IT. Channel eye-patches, parrots and peg-legs. Shout Arrrr at my students. Become Long Jen Silver.

Basically, she had cottoned onto the fact that my usual teaching strategy is to act like a knob, and hope that it’s memorable enough to be classed as education. She’s right. It is.

So from now on, I’m swapping the spreadsheet for a parrot and starting to use the phrase ‘bilge rat’ whenever possible.

There you have it. Proven fact. Working too hard just isn’t worth it.

Captain Jen Sparrow. Over and out.

Now, where’s that bottle of rum…