My present intake of dugs (which is keeping
the pharmaceutical industry going) while certainly having an effect on the
cough etcetera, did nothing to deaden the pain of a two hour meeting after
school.
I told anybody who would listen that I was
there by a sheer effort of will and motivated solely by an overwhelming sense
of bloody minded professionalism, and that I might well not last the full two
hours of the meeting.
I did of course with virtually my sole
contribution of the meeting being a few extravagant coughing outbursts.
When I arrived back at the house I found
that Toni was just about to phone the police, as he had had no idea where I was. This was in spite of the fact that I spent
the whole of the weekend bemoaning the fact that I had two two-hour meetings on
the first two days of the week. Toni
must have an incredibly effective filtering mechanism to neutralize my gripes
about the educational institution I grace with my presence!
Today is the six period teaching stint, to
be followed as a special treat by the next two-hour meeting. When I think about how little chance the
management in this place would have to inflict this absurd burden on staff were
I in Britain – I could well weep!
Here it is accepted as one of the jolly
japes that Johnny Foreigner finds essential to him himself going! In reality, it is, of course, unforgiveable
and will rankle in my mind as yet another Crime Against Humanity that I have
had to suffer in the cause of education.
Meanwhile I am having to put up with the
morning Catalan Cackle which occurs when two or more ladies of that national
persuasion get together. I have been
driven from staffrooms by the cutting quality of high pitched simultaneous
chattering which is more effective at wiping intelligent thought from a British
brain than a high power magnet on a hard drive!
Accompanying this baying was the most
glorious sunrise visible at it rose over a distant hill. It is such images of beauty which will keep
me sane during the horror of the hours ahead.
I am also taking strength from the phone
call from Dianne last night when she confirmed that she is going to apply for
early retirement. This means that she
and Ceri will be able to come over to Barcelona out of season and hopefully at
low cost. If I don’t see them in the
summer then I certainly look forward to seeing them in the autumn – and we can
think again about the visit to the gastronomic restaurant perched like a
spaceship atop the hotel is Hospitalet!
I will need any and all positive
motivations to keep my mind away from the horrors or another meeting this
evening.
The day has started well with my first
class being delayed by their having a talk by students who are trying to
encourage them to go on a school visit to America. In fact I have just been told by the head of
department not to expect “much of a lesson” as the talks have, as usual,
extended themselves and will take up the greater part of the lesson. One down five to go!
One of my lessons is going to involve
chocolate.
As part of my Media Studies classes I touch
on logos, advertising and packaging.
I am fascinated by packaging. I think all people are. How many times have kids been given presents
and they are far more interested in the box in which the present came than the
actual present itself! For some of us
that delight never leaves. I think that
my interested may have been boosted by a period in my mother’s life when she was
ensnared by a local Avon Lady who came Calling and left the most delicious
catalogues.
I was absolutely fascinated by the bottles
that the nondescript smells and potions came in, especially as my father
explained that he was convinced that the bottle cost more to produce than the
contents! This was a revelation to me
and it directed my interest more keenly.
Todays shops are a packageaholic’s
paradise. Not only do you have the
minimalist delight of Apple packaging but also you have the bubble plastic tomb
extravagance of Japanese cartoon character toys packaging as well.
How many adults have been left with
shredded and bleeding fingers as they try and release toys from their razor
sharp plastic covering only to have the wounds augmented by the dagger like
metal twists that hold toys in place on their backing cards!
But my real pleasure is in the clever
deceptive packaging where hapless consumers are encouraged to pay much, much more
for less and less.
My current favourites in this field are
Nespresso and Dettol (to be taken separately).
Coffee I can treat with detachment but Dettol is part of the Circle of
Trust that is made up of products given the maternal mark of distinction and
turned into icons by my mother.
This circle is made up of Domestos, Dettol,
TCP, Savlon and Vic. In my mother’s view
any child brought up in a household in which any one of those products was
lacking had a right and duty to phone Childline and ask to be taken into care!
Nespresso has made a religion out of coffee
purchase and their packaging of minute amounts of coffee into elegant capsules
has made the coffee grains weight-for-weight on a par with gold dust!
Dettol is slightly different. They have developed a hand soap dispenser that
is electronic and deposits the soap on the hand without the user having to
touch any part of the machine.
The brand-specific soap refills are smaller
than the cheap alternatives that you can buy anywhere for a single euro or less
and are, of course, substantially more expensive.
I have used up one refill and have
discovered that the opening in the bottle is a cleverly designed valve which
precludes the use of cheaper soap being forced through – though, it occurs to
me that there must be something on YouTube that will show me how to thwart the system!
What I have chosen as an illustration my lesson
this afternoon is Toblerone.
I have bought a packet of individually lavishly
wrapped triangles of Toblerone chocolate and a solid bar of the stuff – both
cost the same but the difference in weight for money is astonishing. And the packaging makes such a difference in
the presentation. The kids will be
amazed and involved because at least we get to eat the things! At least that is my plan.
The way that Media Studies is organized
means that I have two periods with the equivalent of Year 9 taking up the
entire afternoon from 3.00 pm to 4.45 pm – the graveyard shift for hormonal
adolescents! This is done in a room in
which my personal storage space is in the remaining space of the moveable
television cabinet, where, not surprisingly the television and video/CD player
take up most of the available space.
I have tried to make the second part of the
double lesson practical, but any practical component is a constant battle to
find and distribute stuff which always has to be found and brought in just
before the lesson itself. I (like the
idiot I am) have bought a class set of scissors – yet again ignoring my oft-repeated
advice to members of my own department “not to buy things for school”. When it makes your own life so much easier
and it comes courtesy of Lidl’s at relatively little expense I think that it is
worth it!
Then there is the meeting or The Meeting as
it has become in my mind. Talking with
the head of department she seems not averse to my sloping off after the 3ESO
has been done which should be at least an hour away from the gory end of the
horrible experience for everyone else.
And at the termination of this school day I
will have chalked up: eleven teaching lessons; four hours of mind-numbing meetings;
a tedious lunchtime duty and much spectacular coughing and snuffling, we won’t
even be halfway through the week!
Which is not a good way of thinking about
the time that I have already done. Or
indeed the time left to the weekend!
I shall console myself with the fact that
this is the last full week before the Christmas holidays. We finish on the 22nd of December
and we do not return until the 9th of January next year. It always sounds more comforting when you say
that. “Next year” always sounds more
distant in time, even when you are talking about it on the 31st of
December!
Roll on oblivion!
No comments:
Post a Comment