I got to school to be met by suppressed hysteria from all, amid frantic attempts to get some of the simple administrative tasks done at least. My attempts to find out who might be in my classes was, I suppose, doomed to failure from the start. “I can give you a list off the top of my head” and “the information is on my computer at home” were two of the responses which didn’t really help in any tangible way, but they at least showed some sort of willing.
Probably the best aspect of the Lurking Horror that is tomorrow is that my worst fears have not been realized (so far) and I remain without a form. As is traditional in schools the first couple of periods have the students with their form teachers so that they can be given books, advice, warnings and pleas in the fond hope that they are prepared for the long slog to the end of June in 2011. Dear god what a(n) horrific thought!
For two of my new courses I have no idea what to teach; or to put it another way I have no end of ideas of what I would like to teach but I don’t know just how much can be squeezed into a course which is only a term long and in which I have two periods a week: under 20 hours. One of the courses has to include the translation of a child’s book into English and the history of modern art from Cubism to the present day. The other is Media Studies and here my central project was based on a computer program which doesn’t seem to want to work. What is a “dedicated graphics card” and wouldn’t some sort of more casual and lackadaisical one work just as well in a raffish and debonair sort of way?
The only way to survive is to lurch from weekend to occasional day to major holiday. September is already partly gone and there is a holiday in Barcelona on the 24th when I will make a State Visit to the UK for a significant birthday party of an ex-colleague. The 11th and 12th of October form another break and then there is my own significant birthday when the possibility of changing the car becomes a reality.
Reality of course, would mean that something as essentially frivolous as a convertible would not be considered, but, on the other hand there is something irresistibly decadent about spending more money to get less car that I find strangely beguiling.
The convertible version of the car I already drive is expensive and I would end up with a two-seater with room in the back for a child with rickets and a stunted mermaid with no legs. The version up from my present car is substantially more expensive (I mean substantially) but it does look more elegant and it has a more realistic pair of back seats where people would not have to be suffering from post-war diseases or be members of a fabulous race to be able to enjoy the ride.
The drooling imagination will have a field day with pondering the choices. I might add that I have not seen in the flesh any version of either of these cars and I am determined (a last shred of intelligent thought) not to commit myself to anything until I have had a test drive.
I fear that my school work is going to take a very poor fifth or sixth place while the bulk of what I am pleased to call my mind is engaged in fascinating possibilities far removed from the conditional and changing perfectly good active sentences into ponderous, unlikely and cumbersome constructions in the passive!
On the positive side the neighbours left last night and a bottle of Cava was carefully opened (you do not find me wasting any of the precious liquid at the cost of a vulgar popping of the cork) and consumed mostly, it has to be said, by me. Their departure lifts a pall from our little community and one source of bellowing imbecility is now presumably depressing the neighbours in the city.
On the negative side it has now started to rain. I am a great believer in the Pathetic Fallacy (even if my hero Ruskin meant it as a condemnation) and here, as thousands of teachers gloomily think of the morrow the heavens themselves show their sympathy in an effusion of ethereal tears!
On the even more negative side, there are few things less appealing than the sight and smell of wet pupils whose natural volcanic warmth ensures that all classrooms take on the feel if not the appearance of tawdry saunas!
I can hardly wait!
No comments:
Post a Comment