...lead to enforced hiatus.
I called it, happiness always comes before a fall. It's as sure as listening to the drops in dubstep, actually, and mine are pretty damn' big.
Long story short, I am in work-Hell attempting to catch up and fulfill the latest round of demands on my time and person. I'd love to claim that I am hard done to, but we all know the truth by now. If that were the case then, by now, it would all be over and I would be on an even keel. My new manager is not my old and, if they were, then the extra shit must be my fault.
I have not had time to do much of anything - even see my children - over the last week. I have just had to wear my patented hang-dog expression again, because I made a boo boo and can't fix it.
You lovely people have my apologies for the lack of content on here lately and the lack of comments on other blogs. It will be a while yet before I have time again. Heh, I still have a beer I bought for Christmas sitting undrunk in the kitchen.
O me miseram. If I'm using Latin I am being heavily sarcastic.
Right, it's bedtime. There are four lessons need creating from scratch by Wednesday (one by Tuesday); 32 books to mark up to date at half an hour a book for Wednesday; 30 of the same for Friday and another 31 to mark homework for at about five minutes a pop. Oh, and 32 essays at fifteen minutes a pop to do by the end of tomorrow.
And three schemes of work to plan in advance. With full resources and specific homework tasks. By the end of tomorrow.
I spent nine hours marking 32 books this weekend and eight hours making six lessons from scratch on top of all of that.
Like Tilly says: "You complain about all of this and then take evenings off because you're too tired, well boo-hoo!" She's stretched to breaking point looking after the children alone at the moment. I wasn't home before 6pm any night last week and had a parents' evening on Thursday from 4pm to 8.30pm. No, I did take Thursday evening off.
Did I mention I planned a whole day off timetable for 1,400 students and approximately 100 staff last week too? And marked 28 books at half an hour a book. And planned eight lessons from scratch. And wrote two schemes of work. But only washed the pots twice and barely saw my children at all. No. No I didn't.
Well, shucks, I am employed to do this. What do I want? A bloody medal? I get paid, thousands do not.
Plus ca change.
Words of warning and welcome:
This is very much my blog, so don't be surprised if this doesn't follow accepted patterns and norms. Obviously it started out as a blog about my cross-dressing but it has developed a great deal since then. It is a place where I can be anonymous and honest, and I appreciate that.
It will deal with many things and new readers would do well to check out the New Readers' Page above this and the tag down there on the right. Although there's nothing too bad in here there will be adult language, so be careful. If you think this needs a greater control, please let me know. Thank you!