I am incandescently tired and have reached that point of exhaustion that one begins to suspect that there is another universe tucked away behind real life and which is only revealed when oblivion is almost claiming you.
Today is my lightest day but it has been filled by examination paper marking and putting results into the computer. We are also, allegedly, supposed to put comments into another computer to ensure that tutors have documentation for the endlessly tedious meetings that are a feature of our normal life.
I managed to get the marking that I have to do, done. There is yet another set of papers waiting for me – but I have the ineffable luxury of only having to get those done by Monday; that’s right, on the day of the meeting.
One of my colleagues was heard to sigh, “Almost at the end!” The ambiguity of the statement amused me.
The day ended with a prize giving which started twelve hours after I set out for school this morning. The ceremony was for the International Literary Prize that the school gives for stories in three languages. The ceremony ended with a group of ex-students performing in a pop group. After that there was a reception with cocktails and food, but I had had more than enough and all that I wanted was to go home.
As if to punish myself further I then listened to the last of the Prime Ministerial Debates. I do enjoy listening to politicians but I am not sure that I was in the right frame of mind to appreciate fully the writhing of the men who would be our leaders!
I don’t think that there was a clear “winner” but I thought that Brown impressed because he wasn’t as bad as I feared that he was going to be! Ah well, with the prospect of that odious creep Cameron being in any position of authority in Britain I feel glad that I am in Spain.
The particular part of Spain that I inhabit was in mourning this morning after the departure of Barça from the Champions League. One girl student admitted to me that she had cried at the end of the game! It is difficult to give an accurate impression of the passions that Barça arouses in this part of the world and I sometimes have to remind myself of the risks that I take when I make lightly dismissive comments about the “mere” game of football.
I shall go to bed and ponder on these things.
Today is my lightest day but it has been filled by examination paper marking and putting results into the computer. We are also, allegedly, supposed to put comments into another computer to ensure that tutors have documentation for the endlessly tedious meetings that are a feature of our normal life.
I managed to get the marking that I have to do, done. There is yet another set of papers waiting for me – but I have the ineffable luxury of only having to get those done by Monday; that’s right, on the day of the meeting.
One of my colleagues was heard to sigh, “Almost at the end!” The ambiguity of the statement amused me.
The day ended with a prize giving which started twelve hours after I set out for school this morning. The ceremony was for the International Literary Prize that the school gives for stories in three languages. The ceremony ended with a group of ex-students performing in a pop group. After that there was a reception with cocktails and food, but I had had more than enough and all that I wanted was to go home.
As if to punish myself further I then listened to the last of the Prime Ministerial Debates. I do enjoy listening to politicians but I am not sure that I was in the right frame of mind to appreciate fully the writhing of the men who would be our leaders!
I don’t think that there was a clear “winner” but I thought that Brown impressed because he wasn’t as bad as I feared that he was going to be! Ah well, with the prospect of that odious creep Cameron being in any position of authority in Britain I feel glad that I am in Spain.
The particular part of Spain that I inhabit was in mourning this morning after the departure of Barça from the Champions League. One girl student admitted to me that she had cried at the end of the game! It is difficult to give an accurate impression of the passions that Barça arouses in this part of the world and I sometimes have to remind myself of the risks that I take when I make lightly dismissive comments about the “mere” game of football.
I shall go to bed and ponder on these things.
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