Mrs Dave has been wandering around the house dressed in an eye-patch with a colourful scarf about her head, white frilly blouse and long black boots. Yes it's that time of year again (quiet at the back) - Children in Need. Tomorrow at her school there will be plenty of sixth formers and staff willing to go "ooh-arr" and "avast there land lubber".
I won't.
Okay, as no one else will be wearing a suit etc then, of course I won't either. I'll wear civvies and pay my pound for the privilege. However, with heavy heart, I'll enter a full teaching day knowing that class after class will have assumed that "non-uniform day" means "leave the brain and manners at home day". Alright, cynical I know but I have suffered this, sorry, experienced this, for quite a few years. Don't get me wrong, I'm more than happy to give money to charity, it's the complete refusal by pupils to accept that they're still expected to learn and work that gets my goat.
Ah well, I've not been into work today. I felt awful yesterday. I won't regale you with the full details but I did spend a lot of time rushing to the loo. We had a sixth form parent's evening afterwards which meant that basically I spent about 11 hours at school yesterday (feeling awful) so I felt fully justified on waking up with gut-ache and a sore throat to not go in today.
Just for once - and I mean this most sincerely, friends* - I didn't do any work. I messed about with guitars and crosswords. I felt that I needed a complete rest (a recharge). However, as soon as I thought that I felt okay and I'd be back at the chalkface tomorrow, I thought I'd better do some work. Any other jobs make people feel like this? I'm ill and I feel guilty, for Christ's sake. One day I'll win the lottery . . .
*thank you Michael Miles.