Doesn't everybody have one?

Even a cursory reading of the lives of the Roman emperors will show that there are depths of decadence into which modern man barely shines a battered Pifco torch with its batteries on their last legs.  I however have gone that extra step down the slippery slope of naff indulgence and mixed metaphors.

Not content (who would be!) with a shower head which sparkles with multi-coloured LEDs when the water is turned on I have turned my attention to less salubrious areas for gentrification.

 

It all comes down to the fact that the bathroom suite in the en suite is a truly hideous, dark, pseudo-avocado colour that no one in their right mind would have had installed this side of the 1960s.  I have tried to lighten the oppressive gloom by a rather more pastel shower curtain and the judicious placement of white decorative towels, but the overall effect is one of a decade that considerate decoration forgot.

It was therefore with something approaching mild apathy that I noticed that the toilet seat was disintegrating and would have to be replaced.

Our house is actually owned by the agency that let it, but they preserve the fiction that “the owner” will do nothing to make the place better.  The central heating is leaking, ah, we are told “the owner” will have nothing to do with it.  This Dickensian transference of blame to a tight-fisted “other” when the actual owner is on the phone to us means that if we want anything replaced we have to do it ourselves.

Toilet seats are not expensive if you want a plain white affair.  And that is exactly what I wanted to add lightness to the cell like atmosphere in the bathroom.

And that was fine as far as it went, but if you buy cheap then you must accept the consequences.  Which were that, among other things, the paint started chipping off almost immediately.

And then there was Lidl.

Lidl seem to have an almost pathological desire that people buy hardware for cutting, curling, shaving, bending and shaping that I find vaguely exciting but essentially untempting.  There is however usually something odd and quirky which tickles my sense of acquisitiveness but I have learned by hard experience to avoid soothing that sense with hard cash.

Except.  Toilet seats were advertised.  Not just any old toilet seat but things of glory!

I am now the proud possessor of a toilet seat of transparent plastic embedded in which are shells and small stones with representations of starfish – very stylish.  But that is not all, oh no, indeed.

There are not only pieces of the seashore in the plastic but also a series of red LEDs which burst into subdued light when the seat is raised!

At night with the lights off it gives the impression of a volcanic circle of fire which, as you can appreciate gives a whole new dimension to defecation!

 

All I have to do now is to replace the sink tap with something a little more lively and the bathroom will rock!  Or I could stop now while there is some sanity left.

Yesterday was not a restful day – far too much teaching for that!  So the frivolous purchase was more than justified I feel.

Yesterday was the commencement of the “Early Start” approach to all my teaching days irrespective of an actual early start.  This way I avoid the frustration of the inevitable traffic build up that comes with setting off nearer to my actual starting time and I arrive in school (in theory) fresher and, more importantly, nicer than if I had snarled my way through the usual batch of bastards who only take to the road when I am on it!

It does make the day a tinge long – and when I say “tinge” you will appreciate that it is more than an understatement to use that word, but I will give it a week or so and then evaluate the approach.

The weather continues balmy and I for one will hear nothing against it.  To hell with lawns we, after all, have artificial grass!

Today I teach six lessons with the department coping (quite unnecessarily) with the absence (known in advance) of the head of department who has gone to Canada to fetch our exchange pupils and, just to make things more interesting another colleague has called in sick.  As there is no “coping” mechanism for absence this will create its own chaos.  Any attempt to get our department to help will be met with a stern and ever-so-slightly-hysterical refusal!

I have decided to keep a list of all the little “extras” that this school demands of its overworked teachers and I think that it will make very interesting reading at the end of the year – if I get that far.  I am now in a “collapsed” class, the first of the “adjustments” that we have had to make to compensate for the absence (known in advance) of the head of English.

This evening, after a six period teaching day I have a meeting which will last an hour; that too will go down on the list – a list which is going to be quite substantial by the end of the week!

This is the way to build up resentment - until something, anything, has to happen. 

Just what is lost in the future but (by definition) it is getting nearer all the time!

Toni now has a date for his first period of physio and we will have to see what effect it has on his wonky knee.  He is getting stir crazy and watching Real Madrid with hatred and loathing is no real substitute for free locomotion!

Hopefully Suzanne will visit this weekend and the drinking of Libalis will soften reality.