Monday, 2 June 2008

Wincing the day away.

Back to school today. Never easy going back. I obviously wouldn't complain about the number of holidays I get (only perk of the job?), but it does make for rather alot of depressing back to school days... Anyway, back to school, out of the house, and out of the UC comfort zone. Back to scrutinizing every rumble, burble, bubble and twinge. Back to holding in farts (I couldn't survive audibly farting in front of a class - a legacy forever to be passed from sibling to sibling or father to son until I retired or died ) until I can run to a safe place, and then easing them out tantilisingly close to a follow through. I must have the most toned and responsive sphincter in the world.

I have had some terrible experiences with the UC at school: standing at the front of a class listening to a kids point whilst my colon burns inside me; gripping the table white-knuckled; desperately, embarassingly begging a TA to babysit a class while I leg it to the loo; holding on, holding on, holding onnnnn; and the inevitable day of not making it. This I escaped unscathed thanks to it being a teaching period (i.e. not many kids about) and through the help of someone who proved to be utterly discreet. When i returned to school I spent several days wandering the corridors waiting to bump into that kid who would look into my eyes and spell my resignation from the school with the words: "I know...". Never happened, thank God.

So, back today, and it was pretty uneventful. Still on the 5mg's of prednisolone - will I have the nerve to taper it right out this week? - which finally seems to be... well lets not tempt fate. Mondays a full day, no non-contact periods, which can spell terror when in the grips of a flare-up: when will I go? Strictly speaking you can't leave a class, but I guess I could argue my way out of that if push came to shove. It doesn't make for a mentally comfortable day though. And you'd be amazed at the number of parents only too willing to get on the phone either to you or the head because their little darling told them teacher left the room (or a million other things). But, things have calmed right down, so I got through the whole day without having to pay a visit. And, I must say, that the staff toilets at school are a pleasure to visit. Oh, hang on, did I say pleasure to visit? Surely I meant disgusting, disgraceful, shameful, foul, inadequate... I could go on. Lets face it, I've spent time in toilets, I should know when they're good enough. The kids were given a vote on colours and design etc, and theirs were all tarted up. But the staff? Well, who gives a shit, eh?

Cleansed out the day by listening to the Shins (wincing the night away) when I got home. Ahhhhh, now thats better.

1 comment:

Ronnie Boy said...

My brother and I used to love this bit of the openingcredits for Grange Hill just for the expression on the black girl's face. In fact unless (I only want to help you) Row-land Patterson was certain to be on it would be at this poin we stopped watching and started fighting instead - I say fight as if his battering of me was in some kind of doubt...