…because it is Monday?
…it is the first day back after my holiday?
…I’ve just had to take the dog out for his evening wee in the rain?
…(in my dressing gown)?
…I’ve been in my job 3 years today?
…my wonderful boss has announced she is moving on to new things?
…I got rejected on some internal funding about student engagement because it wasn’t “learning and teaching”?
…I need a doctor’s appointment and the next one is over three weeks time?
…I’m still wondering why I went to a Zumba class on Sunday to display my lack of coordination to the world.
Maybe all of the above. I don’t know why I’m thinking of Arkwright from “Open All Hours”. Perhaps because I grew up in a shop and we had plastic curtains like that, a till like that and my Dad wore identical brown overalls. And yes we did have those long-handled snappy things which were supposed to be for removing items from the top shelves, but really served to pinch people’s bottoms from a distance. I’m probably wishing my Dad was here so I could particularly discuss my list and listen to his words which were always spot on.
I’m partly thinking it is a shame when organisations cannot retain talent such as my boss, and partly remembering the Saturday night bingo in the village hall where one of the local families used to fiddle the raffle. They would mysteriously pull each other’s tickets out of the hat and win illustrious prizes such as a tin of Heinz baked beans. They were rumbled when naughty kid Beverley asked to see the winning ticket on one occasion.
I think I feel funny because I told myself that I’d give it two years in the role, and now am entering my third. I think sometimes we get paranoid about time, and maybe as teachers we are more sensitive to the passing of each academic year. Also based on the hours you put in, you work somewhere between a calendar year and a dog year in reality, so my three years is perhaps nearer five.
Also our education system programmes us to think in two or three year blocks. My mind is thinking that I’ve done three years and I should be moving on. I need to say to myself, “it is OK, you don’t need to do that now. Be like your brother who has been with the same firm for 34 years”.
So a funny old day for sure. A bit like the time when the Colonel’s wife was lighting the candles in the Nativity crib and set light to the whole thing, and the time we put a whoopee cushion on the vicar’s seat during church.