Friday, July 11, 2014

The Most Annoying Things From This Week.........

It's been a particularly annoying week, for all manner of reasons, so without further ado, here they are:

Losing my voice after the Wimbledon Final when the person I'd been screaming for the entire time, didn't even win. You saying I lost my voice for nothing?

Okay. Fair dos to the guy, it was an outstanding match and the fact that Federer even pushed it to a fifth set still makes me go, what? And perhaps I shouldn 't have got quite so involved in a match where I had no clear affiliations, but still, to lose your voice on a Sunday night and have a sore throat and the beginnings of a cold........Not great. Not when I had classes to teach, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. 

Ah, the Summer cold. 

Who else suffers from this shit? And I don't mean hayfever. I mean radioactive waste streaming from your nose. I mean every time you eat something having to endure a two minute coughing fit. I mean looking like a pale imitation of yourself - who is usually pale anyway - and generally feeling blurgh! 

Yay! It's the Summer cold. The most ridiculous and annoying cold ever. It ain't cold outside. I ain't cold, but my body is shutting down and craving hot Vimto. No! It's too hot for hot Vimto. But I want it. It's so confusing, and drawn out. It's Friday and if possible, I'm feeling more poo every day. Yay! Just in time for London Film and Comic Con and the Young Adult Literature Conference which kicks off tonight and runs all weekend. Ah well. I'll be taking my germs with me!

Not sleeping. 

Fairly explanatory, but no less annoying. For the past 10 days I have been waking several times in the night and often when it's 05.30 I can't get back to sleep and essentially just toss and turn for 2 hours before giving up. This is not helping the above, Summer cold, to disperse and is leaving me fuzzy and grumpy and unproductive. URGH!

World Cup

The one game I decided not to watch, in favour of a film, turns out to be the most incredible with 8 goals in the whole match. AHHHHHH! Mistake! So then I curl up on the couch the next day, to watch the other semi-final and am forced to read the guide book for Wisconsin - a part of our US trip for later in the year - in order to stop from falling asleep. Damn it!

Scooters and timing

So when I teach at 11.00-11.30 every Wednesday in your classroom and you never have the kids ready, which means I'm always late starting and finishing, because I have to get them out of the garden, and half of them don't want to come because of course it's sunny and they want to play outside; that's bad enough. But when you purposefully allow three members of the class to go and get their scooters out, complete with helmets and reflective vests at 11.00, so that I at first can't even find them, and then secondly have to cajole them into joining the class; you really are slapping me right in the face!

I then had to spend most of the lesson, keeping two of the children inside, like music class was some sort of punishment, instead of the fun packed wonder it is. Argh! Why can't they just have the kids ready for me the stupid arse cracks?!

Shifting the blame

And then even better, on the same day, I go to my afternoon school, and by some unfortunate coincidence I've arrived 25 minutes early. So I sit in reception and start to read. 

"Oh. The preschool are on a trip to the Science Museum, did (name of room leader) not tell you?"
Well no, but let's face it, you're the manager, you could have emailed. They'd probably had this trip planned for weeks. 

"What time do you teach them?"
Again, probably something you should know, as I've been coming here for 6 months now. 

"2-2.30pm and 2.30-3pm. then the Toddlers 3-3.30pm."

"Oh. Well you'll  have to do the Toddlers first and then maybe just forget the Preschool for today."

Are you freakin' kidding me? It's the last lesson in the term and for some of them, their last lesson with me before they head off to big school. You can feck off if you think I am not at least saying goodbye. 

Instead I reply, "Okay. But when do the Toddlers wake up?"
"Oh, well, anytime between 2 and 2.30pm."

So I wait for 45 minutes to teach the Toddler class which incidentally was wonderful. I was told the preschool would be back at 3pm and I said I would teach one big group so that none of them missed out. So at 2.50pm once I'd finished with the Toddlers, I set up for 11 preschool and did some paperwork and then 3.00 passed and 3.05 and 3.10, and I thought, fuck this, they've got five minutes and I'm leaving. 

Well lo and behold, they arrive at 3.15. and the teachers are like, "Oh have you been waiting for us?"
"Yes. I have. No one told me you were going to the museum." Then I said, "Can I take the music children now, for fifteen minutes?" You'd have thought I'd asked if I could urinate on the two of them. I backed it up with, "This is the last lesson in the term, so can I please take them for fifteen minutes?"

So I did and of course we had a lovely lesson, if somewhat short, but I was freakin' angry for the rest of the day. Not one of them apologised for the hour I'd been hanging around doing sod all. 

I hate being messed around and having my time wasted. 

Not being able to train

Again fairly self-explanatory. But I have one of my charity runs next week and I have now missed almost a week of training, due to the afore mentioned, Summer f-ing cold.  I'll probably get a shit time now. 

Crossing point etiquette

Don't you hate it when you're at a pedestrian crossing, and when you start to cross, the person on your left, tries to cut across you, as they are crossing and going off to the right? (or vice versa) I just think, stand to the right if you're going to the right. And also, rather than cut me off, just bow out behind me. Happens all the time. High on the annoyance factor. The amount of people that have almost tripped me up, or have in turn made me almost trip them up. Come on people, it's not difficult!

Unproductive Writer Status

Yes I have reached UWS - Unproductive Writer Status. It sucks. I can't seem to pick myself up after blatantly being told my plot won't sell. I was also told my writing was great, but when you've been writing and working on something for 5 years, you don't really want to hear that no one will ever buy it. 

Ah well. Maybe this weekend at the YALC - Young Adult Literature Conference - I'll get a little inspiration, or at least some renewed fervor or something. Come on successful authors, bestow your wisdom. 

On a happier note

As research for an existing book idea, that I have started writing, but needs a lot of work, I watched about 8 episodes from Series One of 'Round the Twist.'

Have you ever, ever felt like this?
Have strange things happened?
Are you going round the twist?

Ah, alas, I went round the twist years ago, but this did give me a little surge of youthful nostalgia, the best TV theme tune ever, and plenty of giggles. And yes, very loosely, it was research. Think light houses and beaches and slight craziness. 

No cereal

Damn it. No cereal for breakfast. I hate it when I forget to buy the damn stuff. Now I'll have to have toast and jam. Boo! 

Okay, I think that was the last annoyance, or the last one I'm going to rant to you guys about. Hopefully on Sunday, or early next week I'll be able to give you a nice run down of the London Film and Comic Con, and the Young Adult Literature Conference. I should be seeing some incredible Authors, as well as TV and Film personalities. Am so giddy. Captain Obama and his Son - Apollo - from Battlestar are going to be there, as well as Supergirl. Fook yeah! Me and my brother used to watch the old Superman and Supergirl films all the time, you know, taped of the tele. He he. Cersei Lannister is attending, as well as legend Stan Lee and hundreds of others. Not that we'll probably even see most of them. But I'll snap what I can and report back. 

Cheers for reading and sending the total Rants views over 12,000. You are all amazingly loyal to keep reading after over 180 blogs, and I can't quite thank you enough. Eww. Gone all soppy now. Enough. 
Bugger off. 

Rants


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