Next week opens with the return salvo of The Owner’s lawyer to my union official’s assault last week.
It could be that The Owner’s lawyer thinks that a payout now will forestall a lengthy dispute with final judgement going against her. But I don’t believe it. I think that she sees my dispute as a trial of strength which she cannot afford to lose. She can of course, but her mind set is a sort of prison which ignores open doors and instead looks for crevices to begin using the teaspoon to dig her way to victory. I suppose that forcing her to expend stupid amounts of energy would be a victory of sorts. But I would like to have the money as well!
If The Owner remains recalcitrant then, with the Union’s help, I will begin the process to urge an inspection of the school by the Catalan authorities.
I am quite sure that there are more than enough irregularities in the way that The Owner tires to run that institution to cause her considerable trouble if any impartial authority begins to dig into the way that she has demanded how things be done.
Having seen what the threat of an inspection does to conscientious, hard working educationalists in well run schools, I can only imagine (with malicious delight) what effect it will have in an institution which openly espouses fraudulent practices. My mouth waters with sheer pleasure as I wonder what surrealistic logic she will have to produce to justify the way that she thinks she runs that school.
Meanwhile there is the question of what I am going to be doing when the summer finally ends and the harsh reality of September enters my consciousness.
There is no limit to the amount of sardonic speculation about the future that one can manage when confronted only by serried rows of plastic keys on ones lap; but reality has a way of upsetting mere literary effusions.
It could be that The Owner’s lawyer thinks that a payout now will forestall a lengthy dispute with final judgement going against her. But I don’t believe it. I think that she sees my dispute as a trial of strength which she cannot afford to lose. She can of course, but her mind set is a sort of prison which ignores open doors and instead looks for crevices to begin using the teaspoon to dig her way to victory. I suppose that forcing her to expend stupid amounts of energy would be a victory of sorts. But I would like to have the money as well!
If The Owner remains recalcitrant then, with the Union’s help, I will begin the process to urge an inspection of the school by the Catalan authorities.
I am quite sure that there are more than enough irregularities in the way that The Owner tires to run that institution to cause her considerable trouble if any impartial authority begins to dig into the way that she has demanded how things be done.
Having seen what the threat of an inspection does to conscientious, hard working educationalists in well run schools, I can only imagine (with malicious delight) what effect it will have in an institution which openly espouses fraudulent practices. My mouth waters with sheer pleasure as I wonder what surrealistic logic she will have to produce to justify the way that she thinks she runs that school.
Meanwhile there is the question of what I am going to be doing when the summer finally ends and the harsh reality of September enters my consciousness.
There is no limit to the amount of sardonic speculation about the future that one can manage when confronted only by serried rows of plastic keys on ones lap; but reality has a way of upsetting mere literary effusions.
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