Once upon a time there was a tape in the family car (showing how far back this was) and it had a piece of music on it that I rather enjoyed. The whole tape was pure awesome, but this particular music put me in mind of that part of Superman II (I think) where Superman had gone evil? Maybe that diner in the first film where he gets punched and then goes back at the end and socks the bully? I think. Anyway, today's activities very much are picking up the pieces (the music was called Pick up the Pieces).
My predecessor has left a mountain of shit. Basically, badly marked work that is to be assessed on a national level. This wouldn't be so bad, I can mark quickly and accurately after all, but for the fact that they've completely fucked up the mark scheme and thus taught the students the wrong method. This means students who ought to be hitting top marks (and they really should) are... uh... hitting the kind of marks that mean they fail. And I must fix this. We also have a sleepover ongoing. Boy is still ill (so is the Girlie for that matter, but we're ignoring that so she gets her friend to sleep over). Tilly is still ill. I'm dosed up on energy drink and two pints of Pepsi, hence my blogging tonight.
EDIT - Ah! It was Superman II. The fight and the end of the film!
If you come here just to check on my status, that's probably all you'll need from my following rant. Hence the line break to save your sanity!
|Tilly has added the duct tape.|
You know, symbolically.
|Yeah, that's the look.|
There's a little more screaming, crying, hitting and
incoherence with the Girlie, but this is roughly right.
Maybe this is more common than I think. Well, okay, it
is very common. But not with us.
|Yep, that's me reading through|
the shit I've been left.
What is this I don't even.
And yet... I don't feel an urge to dress. I mean, obviously, there's the low lying urge going on. Obviously, if I were given the opportunity, I would, but it's not all-consuming. It's not something that I'm clinging to like wreckage from a sinking ship as it was this time three years' back. So, my motivations aren't entirely stress-related. It's too late for a beer now. I didn't have one last night. I can't have one before going back to work. Fuck, I've missed that opportunity.
Ah, I'll stop, I think I'm just needlessly ranting now. And to think, I thought I may get round to writing actual fiction this weekend. Ha!