As of 1700 tomorrow:

- no more shouting in my ear
- no more dealing with individuals who have no appreciation of the potential benefits of spending time with me in a classroom
- no more sand in my ears
- no more tiny little safety scissors cramping my hands
- no more betting with my colleagues about how many little people are going to cry today
- no more stodgy kid's food
- no more having to repeat myself
- no more having to repeat myself
- no more having to repeat myself
- no more having to repeat myself
- no more having to repeat myself
- no more sweeping up the incredible amounts of dirt that the little people manage to drag in (although I admit that I really quite enjoy sweeping up)
- no more having to watch my fucking language
- no more having to share a toilet with people who have not yet learned the concepts fundamental to basic personal hygiene
- no more of that odd fusty feet smell that seems to follow little kids around
- no more having to hide the sugar from grasping little fingers at lunchtime in the interests of making the afternoon a little less hyperactive
- no more conflict resolutions
- no more conflict
- no more pretending to big people that their little people are anything other than little angels

Wow, the idea of sitting in an office deleting spam never seemed so attractive.