Good intentions of the new academic year always start to crumble around now. We're human, we try to be that great person who does their best, works their hardest, aces all the tests day in, day out, but we just can't keep it up.
So last year's daily fights have started up again, grubby fists are testing uniforms to the limits of destruction, and there's little I can do about it but forgive them for being as human as anyone. If even the teacher is sick of wearing a bristly, confining suit on weekdays by now, they must feel pure irradiating white hate for those acrylic blazers, ties all too actionable as choking weapons, and shoes that aren't quite broken in.
At least for two weeks of the year, they really really tried to be the best they can be. There's a whole surfeit of adults who haven't tried that in a decade.