Okay - enough Elaine bloody Paige. We always seem to be on the road on a Sunday when she blights Radio 2 with her mummsy garbage.
It’s late. Nearly midnight as I glance at my wristwatch, and wonder what one earth happened to the day. Something must have happened, surely? Ah yes…
Alarm clock at 6:30am
Got up at 7am (after watching the hands rotate on the watch for a good amount of time)
Shower, get dressed (and wonder if sandles are a bit too casual)
Breakfast at 8am - thinking that fry-up might not be the best idea every morning during my stay in the hotel.
Arrive in the training room at 8:30am.
Work like a trojan until lunchtime - pretending to sound knowledgeable.
Eat like a horse for a few minutes - mixing together all manner of lunch options into something that definitely wouldn’t win a TV cookery programme.
Run to hotel room to fetch sweater (it’s chilly in the training room!) - discover I brought no jumpers with me… call home confirms they are still hanging on the washing line. Best laid plans and all that.
Work like trojan until end of class
Return to hotel room, and revise for Friday’s exam
Talk to kids on Skype
Eat like horse in the bar with colleagues and new friends
Return to hotel room, and revise for Friday’s exam until nearly midnight
Talk to better half on Skype - and get the real version of the days events (it would appear the cats are making my absence far easier, due to their distractive and occupational powers on the kids)
Read 2 chapters of course book
Write this
I’m guessing the rest of the week is going to be pretty much the same format every day. Snore.
In the classroom, somebody is sitting behind me, nervously jigging their leg. I can feel the floor shaking beneath me. I wonder what the correct social ettiquete is for “STOP THE HELL DOING THAT YOU MORON!” ?