I've come back to school with a vengeance this term. With one fellow English teacher substituted due to pregnancy, things have slightly changed, and I'm now finding myself more able to be creative in the classroom. I actually have favourite students! That means I actually like some of them! I feel like I'm making real progress. I am now taking smaller groups, and have targeted the ring leaders to either unashamedly humiliate them in front of their peers in an effort to force them into silence, or have taken out restraining orders against them. I.e. have had them BANISHED from my lessons. For like 2 weeks... (how much power do you think we realistically have?!) This week is already proving rather delicious, as all of my 3ème classes are doing mock exams and work experience, so my life seems a little more peaceful. But this does mean I have to sit in the staff room for even more hours, finding things to amuse myself... Like writing a new blog post... The highlight of my day today was lunchtime. For those of you who know me, this will not come as a surprise, BUT it was not simply thanks to it being a socially accepted mealtime. As I gingerly whipped out my large Poulet et Bacon McWrap from (just incase you haven't guessed) good old McDo, I caused quite a stir. I swear I heard actual gasps emit from several teachers. One asked if he could touch it. He said he was joking. But I could see it in his eyes. He wasn't. They were all jealous. With their carrots. And their broccoli. And their rice. While I will inevitably die much sooner due to my salty clogged arteries, they will die unhappy, and I, I shall be smelling of ketchup and grease with a smile on my face. But honestly, I'm getting rather worried about my intake of such stodgy (but tasty) nonsense, and so have been going for lots of runs as of late. This is also partly so I can cause myself maximum physical pain (in an effort to numb this emotional ache) without it actually being classed as self harm. . .
Saturday was a good day. I was recovering from a night out about which I would love to spill a heap of anecdotes of our goings-on, but I have little to no recollection of it, thus the escapade would be pointless. I did not however suffer from any hangover (a miracle considering my intake) and so caught up on the latest from Vampire Diaries, True Blood, and other teen vampire-related programs. Magic. In the evening, I was invited to a little soirée at Liz's (who from here on in I shall refer to endearingly as Lizbet). Jenni the Essex gal, Jane the New York Yankie, Daniel 'Hurricane' Welsh and myself made our way to the house of little Lizbet. We were in for a night of candid banter, snuggling in a bed far too small for 5 people, and pushing boundaries in terms of how much flatulence is acceptable in an intimate social setting (IN WHICH I TOOK NO PART). We movie watched (there's nothing like 2 hours of Penn Badgley to warm the cockles of your heart), we Brownie baked, we Camembert devoured. This made it even harder to fit in the bed, as by the end of the night, we'd all gained about 46 stone. When the morning came, we decided it was more than OK to have cheesy nachos with salsa for petit dejeuner, and due to my depression, I must admit, I forced the issue.
My beautiful friends have managed, fantastically and with flare, to thoroughly take my mind off the rain cloud following me around (cue Travis Why Does It Always Rain On Me). Couldn't ask for much more. Coming home to check Facebook is now an actual event for me: finding little (Or MAHUSSIVE) messages from my friendies containing uplifting music videos and pictures of the various men in my life - Patrick Swayzee, Colin Firth, ETC - who can make me feel snugly whatever the weather. Thanks so much y'all (I'm trying to pick up this American drawl - let me know if it's working).
Yesterday evening, even washing my clothes was penciled into my social calendar. I bought dinner to head on over to LavCity with the aforementioned Daniel (he couldn't believe I'd brought bread and cheese to the laundrette) and while I was held up as a security guard searched me after accusing me (rather rudely) of shoplifting (!), I eventually made it, and we settled down to chew the fat and air our dirty laundry in public (literally and metaphorically). I've noticed actually that we do have a tendency to all talk very loudly here about very private things, as the assumption is that no one really understands what we're saying... That belief was cruelly shaken after a frank and emotional chat entre Daniel and myself was overheard recently by a young woman sat near us in McDo, who proceeded to lean over to our surprise, and say in an American accent, "I've been through the exact same thing". We're now friends.
To round off on a slightly depressing note, my feelings have lately been leaning towards the genuine pointlessness of life. Since I became toute seule, I have noticed that everything I do seems suddenly to have no point to it, now there's no one to tell about all those silly little things that have happened in the day. Friends are only interested in a certain amount of pointless facts that you might tell slash text your partner in a sort of daily ritual. Like when you realise half way through the day that your left arm has a number 6 on and you don't know why; or that you've forgotten your lip balm and it's affected your mood with dire consequences; or that your alarm has just gone off at 5.30am and you refuse to get out of bed, when you both know you're probably already up. The banalities of daily life, that when shared with someone you love, become actual fun. It's just strange suddenly realising that no one is interested anymore. If anyone ever was.
The best feeling by far about being with someone, is waking up with them, and being able to immediately discuss all your hazy mental dreams. Like when Frodo dies, and it's suddenly your responsibility to get the ring to Mordor, but you realise you have chips where there should be legs and you've accidentally super glued your arm to a dolphin. Because that's just the kind of gold that should NEVER fade into obscurity without being shared. Maybe the lesson is that you should just always have someone with whom you can share these things, and not rely on those people who may become more transient in your life? If I uncover the answer I'll let you know.
Much love and whatnot, H x
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