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Thursday, 9 September 2021

Rolling Grenades

Another image from Tuesday. I like the
glasses in this one.
Busy day today, but I'm trying to keep to things that aren't just narrations of the day these days. Anyway, the first evening taking the eldest to her dance class at a later time. That meant I had to start the day preparing for the in-person support group - meaning a bath and shaved legs (only twenty minutes, much improved!). I then did shopping and a rushed extra shave (chin) this evening before taking her to dance for 1900. She finished at 2015, but wasn't out until 2020. Driving her home took until 2050. Then it was a dash to mine to get changed, and I hadn't really thought through what I was going to wear. Well, okay, I had a bit but I realised that I didn't have time to add mascara (which was a shame) and my plan wasn't going to work (mini skirt - the denim one from Toby - with pink top) because I hadn't really sorted the 'shoe problem' where I didn't have anything I could reasonably wear. I tried the pink top from Aldi with a new skirt (burgundy) but... no. Pushed for time, it was now gone 2100, I opted for the mustard t-shirt and long skirt I got from Lidl recently. All a bit of a change from my teaching outfit. And now I've written a vapid paragraph on clothes.

Me in job-mode.
I made the group at around 2130 in the end. A bit late. I'd missed introductions and discussion was underway. The older lady from last time was there, holding forth again, but we were joined by others. It was a good turn-out. But, after a day teaching, I was still in teacher-mode, I guess, and itching to have a discussion. I could feel myself trying to speak, to turn conversation onto something that would lead to 'discussion' rather than... I don't know. It's not something I like about myself. I ended up chatting to a trans-man there with his partner and so I rolled the grenade into the group and it exploded, sending everyone into shards. The conversation was a nice one, this couple was just older than my students, so it fitted neatly into the sort of conversation pattern I'm used to at work, in the classroom. Except I was in a skirt with a stuffed bra, I guess.

But I did spot some of the regulars (though they were new to me) looking very stern. At me.

App interpretation. Teeth: model's own.
I need to learn to shut up and listen more, I know, and I perhaps shall. Who knows?

Upshot? Everything today has been just a bit too rushed. I got up slightly late, I ran a bath rather than have a shower, the nature of the day at work meant that I was moving rooms a lot and having to adapt on the fly. I mean, I can do that, but it does take rather a lot out of me. Add in being unable to share lunch with Miss Warrington and other staff (long boring story, I have to sit with my Form for a few weeks) and not really having a chance to chat with colleagues generally and you have a frustrating day (no matter how much I enjoy the lessons). Then it was a rushed drive home to shop, to make and eat tea, pick up my eldest and then a strange hour with no pressure (and nothing to do) before another rushed drive and panicked getting ready. Then, for me, a rushed in-person support group meeting.

I'm not sure I'm going to able to reasonably make the group again. Which is a shame. I feel like I have much more left to learn if I could only sit and listen for longer.


  1. The rushing about rings a bell. That's something that seems to drain my energy and almost to a point where attending the group becomes a difficult task with all that's going on.

    FWIW, what might you be able to do - and, indeed, not do - in order to attend the group?

    PS: I'm intrigued in what you asked ­čÖé

    1. Yes, I can relate - it was a shame, I really wasn't in the right frame of mind at all. I wasn't especially good with my eldest either.

      The main issue is the timing of my eldest's dance class - it finishes at 2015 (so can't get going from the location before 2020) and it's a good half hour to get her home. Ten minutes to home, then a good 15 minutes to the group HQ. It's a bit intractable. I doubt very much Tilly would give on timings (not least because the alternative is that she picks up the eldest).

      On the PS - I didn't so much ask a question as refuse to be dislodged from talking memes, tumblr and youtube references with the trans-man and his partner. In that sense, the grenade was me. Like I say, I really wasn't in the right frame of mind, so I just did my autistic teacher thing and made it all about where I wanted to go in the conversation.


All comments are welcome, I have a thicker skin virtually than I do in real life!