Sleep and Longing

We survived!

Eleven weeks of trauma at Nuova Lazio High School, but we survived.

Some of us are definitely battle-weary, carrying wounds to the psyche (and a couple to the flesh) which will take most of the two week break to heal.

The list of misdemeanours and major incidents would take far too long to list in detail, but here's a quick summary.

Cannabis-related incidents 26

We like to start them early

Tobacco-related incidents 114 (we don't really do to much to the little nicotine-addicted scrotes UNLESS they do the unthinkable, and smoke in the toilets )

Uniform-related incidents (minor) 322

What the School Board think our kids look like.

A bit more like reality

More like my fantasy idea of uniform

Uniform-related incidents (major) 78 (Major is defined as refusal to hand over the offending item to a teacher on request.  The major item is a baseball cap, in non-uniform style.  Most of us keep a handy sachet of strong disinfectant wipes in a vain attempt to remove any disease-carrying organisms from our hands when we receive these items.. Try and imagine what they look/smell like after a couple of years of semi-continuous use.  Even Dettol-soaked wipes don't eradicate the psychological damage of actually touching these abominations.  It lives and haunts within us for years)

The first term's hat collection.  Anybody got a match and about 5000 gallons of Dettol?

Student hitting student incidents 16

Student hitting Teacher incidents 4

Teacher hitting student incidents 1 (Whilst normally a chargeable offence, probably leading to suspension/dismissal, this one was let go, as the student involved and his family said that he deserved it, for calling the teacher a f*cking c*nt and trying to kick the teacher in the nuts.  Unfortunately, he picked on a bloke who was in the process of bulking-up for a semi-professional Rugby team and who'd been having a bad day.  He had the little scrote down on the ground with a dislocated shoulder in about 2 seconds)

Serves you right, you little b*stard.

I cannot even list the cases of known or suspected sexual abuse of students in their home environments, because it's really just to sad to even contemplate, and I really want to keep them completely anonymous, for their own sake.

So after that lot, PLUS of course trying to keep the bloody staff in some semblance of professional behaviour ( I mean to say...taking a day off because your HAMSTER is ill?) I was tired.

You want a day off for WHAT?

I was enjoying a deep sleep, engulfed in a Beloved-scented duvet, having a Beloved-oriented fantasy when something woke me up.
No, it wasn't my Beloved having a morning grope, it was some f*cking music coming in our open bedroom window.

I immediately blamed thought it was m'son, who has his bedroom immediately below ours, but the sound was wrong somehow.  It was too distant, with that echoing quality that indicated it's coming from some distance away.  Then the music was followed by a voice, speaking in the local nasal Kiwi accent.  I couldn't make out the words, but I recognised the format.

It was a public announcement through a PA system.  I've sat through too many such occasions at NLHS (including what we laughingly call "Sports Day" to mistake the sound.

I normally wouldn't be too bothered about this normally, but when I checked my alarm clock (blessedly with the alarm switched off because I WAS ON HOLIDAY) it showed 7:15 am.

What kind of deranged idiot uses music and a PA system at that time in the morning?

I was about to (reluctantly) drag myself out of bed to find the b*stard involved and possibly give her (because the voice definitely had the unmistakable shrill overtones of a person of the female gender) a good shoeing, when the (if they do exist) Gods of Aotearoa weighed in.

The amplified voice began to be obscured by the pitter-patter of raindrops, and then became completely hidden by the sound of an absolute deluge.  I could now hear nothing but the sound of gallons of water bouncing of our metal roof and pouring from the gutters.

I returned to the Duvet and my Beloved-based fantasies, secure in the knowledge that the event which had disturbed me well-earned rest was being washed right down the gurgler.

I hope the b*stards drowned like water-logged rats down a sewer.

Serves you right, you b*stards, LET ME SLEEP

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I also mentioned Longing in the title.  This has nothing to do with my Beloved or any form of fantasy.

It's all about my computer.

My main desktop computer (an HP of considerable power) spat the dummy two weeks ago, and refused to produce any sort of video signal, so I had to send it (under warrant) to the computer hospital (somewhere I am now thinking in Asia, because 2 weeks just to replace a video card is far too long for a local repair/replacement.)

My blogging has been severely curtailed, as my vast library of nauseating and pulchritudinous images has gone with my HP's hard disk, and I've been reduced to using the family's spare laptop.

I loath laptops.

Best kind of laptop

They are underpowered, their keyboards are too small and wrongly laid out, the touch-pad control for the GUI pointer/cursor is not designed for either continual use or bloke's finger dimensions, and the display often leaves much to be desired, both in size and resolution.

But eventually, my longing to blog, outweighed my hatred of the f*cking laptop.  With some changes.

As I type this, I've got my wireless mouse plugged in, my keyboard plugged in, and my regular monitor happily showing a much improved resolution and clarity.

It's better than nothing but I miss my HP.