The most glorious human invention

Coming in out of the nice weather, I was greeted by a wonderful sight. There on my desk was a sleek, white envalope from my friend Phil. There is nothing so satisfying as a letter from home.
Mail is, as Phil writes, that most glorious human invention.
My sister arrived in Hungary on the 15th, and her week here is almost over. She was like Saint Nicholas, as I greedily opened suitcases full of teaching supplies, candy, spring clothing and bunny ears. She has been photographing everything, and every morning I jelously watch as she gets to sleep in, while I trudge to school.
It has not been a good week. I spent too much in Vienna. I am exhausted, despite doing little other than sleep. One of the teachers, Márika, walked up to me and said "I don't like you today". I later found out that this was in reference to how I looked... "too pale and tired, are you sure you have no problem?"
My students have, in multiple classes, suddenly decided (as of Friday) that sex and porn are hilarious, and should be discussed at every opportunity. I crabbily ratted out one of my classes to their form teacher, and they were in trouble. Parents were called, and I feel somewhat guilty, but only somewhat as I only wanted him to speak to them in Hungarian and it was his choice to take it further.
Cheerleading for the teachers vs. students football game, not only did we loose for the second time, but I got hit on the arm, leg and in the middle of the forehead by the ball. Cheerleading really is a dangerous sport.
My 8th grade didn't show up on the day that I was prepared with an awesome game, and 12th grade discusses dating...or at least I hope that is what they mean...with my sister.
Inspectors come next week and I am not prepared. I fear the decent of wimpled nuns and prayer-bead bedecked priests more than any child fears the boogie-man.
I miss and crave vegetables as a meal more than any pregnant woman wants chocolate.
Still no one knows when I can move. I am going slowly batty, living with students who do not view me as a teacher.
But all of the stress and distress is somewhat lessened by that beautiful white object with AIR MAIL scrawled across it.