My Teacher May be a Monster

So, I am mostly retired. Trying to take better care of myself, mostly. I have enjoyed biking along ocean and river paths in Porto, up to sixty to eighty miles a week. I still teach part-time, and novel writing has become my new passion. As part of my relocation to Portugal, it was time to begin Portuguese language classes. My wife was very excited; I was not. I support the philosophy of integrating and respecting our adopted country, but it seemed like an onerous task. And it became a part-time job that I didn't particularly enjoy. Don't get me wrong, my classmates are great; I just knew I would not do well with immersion learning. That was how my father taught me to swim. I didn't enjoy floundering and spluttering in a swimming pool as entertainment at my parent's party. I remember bits of it, but that is how they told the stories years later. Still not funny to me!

So, back to language class. It interfered with my perfect life in Portugal. No bike riding. Very little time to write. My teacher became a demonized figure in my own private world of passive-aggressive student. My wife tells me she is a fine person. She may have vampiric ancestry.

About 3/4s through the course, my brain started a minor revolution. I would take one or two days off. I would wear myself out on a bike ride. I would start a drawing/painting. I started a short story for my grandson. That was once a week over a 3-week period. My test scores dipped, but I was still afloat in the class. Still restless, I downloaded a new game on my ipad. My brain was in all out war against the time drain on the class. Needless to say, my test scores dipped too low! What a relief! My wife didn't see it that way. I tried to hide my victory dance out of failing, but I just couldn't. I have my life back, and I get out of the last 3-weeks of class. Instead of failure, I see it as an early-release program my rebellious brain created. I will study for a comprehensive government test in a couple of months to complete my certificate for my residency status here. My wife is quietly resentful of my freedom as she toils. I am working to conceal my glee at creating again.