Monday 16th May 2011

And so to work....

I awoke at around 3am, having a mild panic attack (well, more a mini-fret, if I'm honest) about the impending lack of job security.  I dozed until the alarm aroused me at 6am - ready for another giddy week at Shitty Central.
Low point of the day?  I forgot my Tiptree 'Little Scarlet' jam, and had to make do with blackcurrant.  High point?  Going home at 4pm.
I've been thinking lots about what I will do if I lose my job.  Obviously, will hang on until the bitter end for a substantial pay-off (I wish).  Miss Underscore and I were chatting yesterday about me doing a teaching assistant course.  I make no bones about it - I am sooo not ambitious.  I just want a job where I can come home every night, feel like I have done a good day's work and not feel sick at the thought of getting up the next morning.  I don't mind children.  Much.  I guess that it might feel quite rewarding.  However, it's the thought of studying alongside 'tweedy fuckwits' that repels me.  I have a tendency to break out in hives if I am subjected to people who wear brogues and have leather elbow patches on jackets.  Thought I grew out of that at university.  Of course, the modern version of a tweedy fuckwit is actually an 'adult emo' - the sort who have dyed black hair, lots of black clothing, possibly wear 'winkle pickers' and slope around with a general sense of apathy.
You see, I would feel compelled to let the kids know about all of the great things that I learned at college/uni - but I doubt that 7 year olds from Ford Estate will be able to appreciate the iambic pentameter of a Phillip Larkin poem or the bleak, brooding tragedy of Wuthering Heights (the novel, not the Kate Bush classic).
I will always remember a lecturer that I had for A-level English Language - Paula McNeany.  She was fab.  She would let us dissect and analyse anything in the name of linguistics.  Hell, I even suggested that for one lesson, we should analyse our favourite song lyric.  And she agreed!!!  My chosen lyric was (obviously) a Depeche Mode track - 'New Dress'.  My friend went with the more 'metal' option of 'From Out of Nowhere' by Faith No More.  I also did a blazing hot analysis of 'Blasphemous Rumours' by Depeche Mode, looking closely at the phonetics - amazing.  She also let us watch an episode of 'Only Fools and Horses' to analyse the Cock-er-nee language.  However, this backfired on us, as it was the episode where Racquel had the baby.  Paula suffered from epilepsy, and at the crucial moment, had an 'episode' where she proceeded to pogo all over the parquet flooring - unpleasant.
Anyway, found loads of my old textbooks tonight whilst tidying, Phillip Larkin, Sylvia Plath, Tony Harrison - brought back some amazing memories - God, was that really 21 years ago????