Mr. Pines swears up and down that he loves his job.

You don't doubt that fact, but every time he enters the faculty room looking like he had just exorcised 200 demons, is just the slightest bit more done with life, and like he had been wronged by the universe, you wonder how he manages to keep that love in tact.

It's not like you don't know what type of person Mr. Pines is. You've known him for a good amount of your college life, having gone to the same university and even becoming blockmates. You know he's patient, kind, loving, and just so sincere in everything he does that it almost hurts. But you also know how easily he shrinks back into himself when he's overwhelmed- which is, sad to say, a default mood for the teachers of Everbright school- and you know how low his lows can get when he's pushed too far.

So when the door to the faculty room closes with a loud BANG, and you see Mr. Pines come in and plop face-first onto the sofa with a loud, frustrated groan, you immediately know exactly what mood he's in and why.

"Crap. Shouldn't have lied down suddenly... The room's spinning. Plus I think they just broke my eardrums."

Yeah, teaching history to a bunch of rowdy kids is never easy, and it seems like it'll never get easier for poor Mr. Pines.