Bad, bad blogger.
I knoooow. But being a teacher is tough, you know. Yes, we get squillions of holidays (don't start with that shite, ok? No bugger would do it if it wasn't for the holidays. It's a fairly thankless task at regular intervals, and as bad as your cushy office job may seem at times, know this. You've probably had a buffet lunch on company expenses at some point in your career. I get excited at a free soggy sarnie, I tell you. And I bet you have air con. Oh, and I definitely BET you have a window. A window; man, that's the stuff dreams are made of. And sometimes kids tell me to fuck off. That's always heartening. So quit the holiday-negativity, yeah?)
And now I'm back at work, it's all gone a bit mental again.
I will get better, I promise. To cap it all off, Virgin have messed up our internet (and have refunded us the princely sum of £1.50 to make up for it. Aw, cheers guys!), but as soon as we're back up and running I shall continue to post stuff and nonesense. And get better at answering emails.
Amidst this internetless back-to-work madness, there's some light around the corner. A trip camping in Norfolk (we'd better bloody camp no matter how freezing it is. No one had better wimp out) is around the corner. King Lear is coming to the West Yorkshire Playhouse. Heidi Talbot is playing in Selby next month. We're going to a ceilidh on Sunday.
All perfectly normal shizzle. But exciting, like. 'Cos we're wed and it's wonderful and we're just pleasing ourselves getting on with the business of living.
And...wedding photos have arrived. Oh my. I started off disliking them...and now I positively love them? I'm not even lukewarm about them-I love them. It's like the dress saga all over again. Am I schizophrenic? No we're not.
Bad joke. Back soon.
I knoooow. But being a teacher is tough, you know. Yes, we get squillions of holidays (don't start with that shite, ok? No bugger would do it if it wasn't for the holidays. It's a fairly thankless task at regular intervals, and as bad as your cushy office job may seem at times, know this. You've probably had a buffet lunch on company expenses at some point in your career. I get excited at a free soggy sarnie, I tell you. And I bet you have air con. Oh, and I definitely BET you have a window. A window; man, that's the stuff dreams are made of. And sometimes kids tell me to fuck off. That's always heartening. So quit the holiday-negativity, yeah?)
And now I'm back at work, it's all gone a bit mental again.
I will get better, I promise. To cap it all off, Virgin have messed up our internet (and have refunded us the princely sum of £1.50 to make up for it. Aw, cheers guys!), but as soon as we're back up and running I shall continue to post stuff and nonesense. And get better at answering emails.
Amidst this internetless back-to-work madness, there's some light around the corner. A trip camping in Norfolk (we'd better bloody camp no matter how freezing it is. No one had better wimp out) is around the corner. King Lear is coming to the West Yorkshire Playhouse. Heidi Talbot is playing in Selby next month. We're going to a ceilidh on Sunday.
All perfectly normal shizzle. But exciting, like. 'Cos we're wed and it's wonderful and we're just pleasing ourselves getting on with the business of living.
And...wedding photos have arrived. Oh my. I started off disliking them...and now I positively love them? I'm not even lukewarm about them-I love them. It's like the dress saga all over again. Am I schizophrenic? No we're not.
Bad joke. Back soon.
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