Mundane
2002-09-26 || 10:47 p.m.

Question Time just came on. An Iraqui special. Its the demo on Saturday. I'm not sure I can go. Fucking work. Fucking no money. Not even for a train fare. I'm going to try to get into school early (like 7.30am) tomorrow morning and finish off my numeracy planning so I only have my literacy planning to do, but this weekend is rather crucial because I've got a literacy observation on Wednesday and I haven't even done my medium term planning which I'm going to have to do in retrospect. Which is a pointless handwriting exercise.

Phone Vote on Question Time

Should Britain go to war with Iraq?

No need to wait until the end of the programme. I reckon the figures will be something like:

Yes 58%

No 42%

But I may be being overly optimistic.

I do wish my kids could do their number bonds to 100. Its not time to teach them the magic party trick yet. I save that for nearer Christmas and tell them to impress their friends and family.

Maria has been storming around the school because Helen had a showdown with her yesterday. Maria is so fucking stupid that if someone speaks their mind she immediately stops talking to everyone. She is one of those people who create a nasty atmosphere that makes everyone else scared to talk. I hate people that do that. She is a bully. She never comes anywhere near me. She knows she can't bully me because I JUST DON'T CARE.

Me and Helen are confirmed persona non grata again (what is the plural for two persona non grata's? gratis? gratum? fuck I wish I'd listened in Latin). Its Maria's husbands 40th and she has invited everyone except me and Helen. Aren't we the lucky ones!

On Monday she grabbed hold of us all after mass and kissed us. A truly horrific experience. The next day I said to Helen (who was not there) that I wished I'd thought at the time to stick my tongue down her throat and say, 'I didn't know you felt like that'.

Why do I only think of these things after the event?

I must look a particularly shady character because the Head teacher at St Barts shook me by the hand and then directed me to the outside smoking area! Me! Ms toowussyforsubstance abuse.

I had a horrible dream last night. I dreamt that I smoked. I hate it when that happens. I wake up in a panic. I couldn't cope when I smoked. Every morning when I woke up my lungs wheezed. When I was small I had lots of problems with my chest. I had croup and had this lovely smelly thing in my room it was like this little lamp with a smelly candle like a tea light. It smelt of coal tar which is one of my favourite smells.

I wish I had some hope.