The best possible thing about being back at work in a real job every day is that I get a FRIDAY feeling. It has also toned my mathematical ability because I can tell you at any time of the day or week how long it is until Friday night. Now, in researching this little matter I clicked on You Tube just to see how many “Friday Night” entries there were. My maths weren’t up to making a full count. Yes- this sense of week-end release from toil has always been a background in my life ever since I can recall. This is one of the reasons why French life has a very different feel to it. Here in the UK I really notice the whole 24 hour culture. It always amused me to see folk buying groceries at the all night gas stations. For security reasons they do not allow shoppers inside but the goods have to be poked out through the little gap left for you to pay. A plastic milk bottle will just bend through but a pack of Cornflakes is a major challenge. I reckon there is a fortune waiting out there for the guy who invents Gas Station retail ergonomics – you know like a hot water bottle of milk, bread rope and a sausage of washing powder. If any of you lot steal this idea I’m gonna be straight down the Gas Station to hire an inflatable lawyer.
Rain and thunder slowed traffic to a crawl this morning so I was 10 minutes late getting to intercom mom. I thought I’d launch a pre-emptive strike.
“I ‘spect ee’s already dun ‘is teef,” I quipped.
“Nah dear – ee’s not too good an’ ee won’t be in. Can you tell ’em.”
I crawled on to the next client – a lad of about 16. Normally he stands at the bus stop smoking a cigarette. Torrential rain fell and there was no sign of him. I knew his house and went to the door. No answer. I returned to the bus soaked and getting cold. On Friday I can take anything.
At the college I saw my favourite official.(She’s the one who reprimanded me for speaking to a parent about their child’s behaviour when I was not a professional educator). Yesterday she reported me to the bus company for being two minutes early even though she was standing there. She has to know who comes in. This morning I watched my lot troop past her while she wasn’t paying attention. With anyone else I would have braved the rain and told her she was two short. Important officious people probably think they win the game. I bet her little heart swelled with pride inside her reflective importance jacket as she grassed me up. So – she’s had her tremble of official joy…..
Emma thinx: Know what the game is before you try to win.