Eyes blearily open at 4:59.
No hope of getting back to Land of Nod
Stagger, dribble to ablutions (What a delightfully military nomenclature)
Aware that I've awoken with a craving for French Toast.
Any American readers, please note. French Toast (Bread soaked in a an egg and milk mixture then fried) is a SAVOURY dish, not SWEET. No cinnamon, no maple syrup, no *shudder* sugar or *double shudder* ice cream.
|Savoury, not sweet|
Salt and pepper, and just maybe, tomato ketchup.
Laugh at Richard's venting of spleen, groan at looby's predicaments, search vainly for The Curmudgeons wit, or Hestia's erudite prose.
Reply to comments. My wit is slow.
Pick up dog shit. (who wins?) (Guess?)
Check phone and email for messages.
Sick man is sick (He sounded OK yesterday. Is he as sick as me, with my dripping nasal discharge and glutinous lungs?. We'll see.)
Text relievers to ask more to come in.
Head for school.
Mobile phone rings in car. Dare not read message, cops just as paranoid as me.
AAAArrrggghh. Someone else of sick. (read in completely legal side of road. For any cops reading this I DEFINITELY STOPPED BEFORE READING TEXTS. OK.)
Got to school while defiantly rejecting incredibly strong temptation from gloriously smelling bakery at bottom of Nuova Lazio hill.
|Get thee behind me Satan|
Got to office, started computer. Made 3rd
AAAArrrggghh. Basket man off sick.
Re-arranged relief arrangements, phoned new relievers to come in.
Sobbed briefly, as no staff around. All f*cked off somewhere.
Start off for class, last night's marking under arm, with today's lesson planned.
AAAArrrggghh. Reliever off sick.
Run back to office. Frantic calls to other (last ditch) relievers.
Now late for my own Year 10 class, start
Very reliable reliever wants to know if he's in today.
Forgot to phone her this morning, because of Basket Man (Look, I need to blame someone, it's obviously not me. I'm perfect.)
Arranged a temporary cover while Very Reliable reliever gets to school.
All computers loose power, as does printer.
Don't think any pupil heard me say "What the f*ck is going on?" "Have I sh*t on G*d?'
"Have I sh*t on S*tan?" "Have I sh*t on Winston Peters?" (NZ joke)
Managed to get the circuit breakers reset. (Found out later it was caused by one of our cleaners with a defective vacuum cleaner who tried 4 times to get his cleaner working, blowing every power circuit in my part of the school before he realised he was the one doing the damage.)
Stopped two students from killing each other. (Pity)
Runner arrived and nicely (but pointedly) made it clear that students should not be wearing jackets in class. It was rather chilly this a.m. I told class that they could wear jackets until it warmed up)
Class actually seemed to learn something.
Back to office.
THREE F*CKING STAFF HAD NOT PICKED UP RELIEF WORK.
F*CK THIS FOR A GAME OF SOLDIERS"
Made 6th cup of triple strength coffee and read a chapter of my book.
Taught the rest of the day.
Commiserated with staff/relievers who had problems (mostly Year 10s).
Managed to finish my reports (due next week)
Started my report for the Board of Trustees (School Board), with statistical analysis and plenty of simple graphs for the less-than-literate members of the board.
Started my update for the management document due in June.
Set up the relief for tomorrow.
TWENTY - F*CKING - SEVEN TEACHERS AWAY.
Remember the parable of the bricks made without straw?
Try the parable of the classes made without teachers (Primeval chaos)
Plan on board for my colleagues to read (I've added pictures and pretty colours for the Arts and PE departments)
Make new lesson for my Year 11s for tomorrow.
Make plan for my absence next week.
No, honestly, it's not a nervous breakdown. Something much more important.
Head home at 5:45pm
Exercise for student.
Calculate number of hours at/thinking/dreaming of Nuova Lazio High School
Only thing that stops me screaming is thinking about our poor Year 9s freezing their little arses off in their primitive bivouacs. It turned unseasonably cold last night. AND it rained.