So what’s been occurring?
I’ve been feeling a bit like a dinosaur this week and a sad solitary one at that. There’s a lot going on in the world that I don’t understand and at this stage, can’t be bothered to learn about.
Why do people talk on their mobiles so loud? and so constantly? Not everyone in the street wants to know your business. Be quiet y’all!
Why is my life ruled by sodding passwords and memorable words? Don’t have the same password for everything they say? Yet I’m meant to remember 50 different passwords when I can’t remember what day it is most of the time? Couldn’t read a bloody email yesterday because I had to log in with a username, password and memorable word just to read a flipping text from Scottish Widows. FFS!
My kids tolerate my ‘mumness’ with love, but often make me feel like a clueless fuck-up because I don’t understand what they’re saying half the time. My husband tolerates my ‘wifeness’ most days, but also sometimes makes me feel like a clueless fuck-up. (Or maybe that’s just me listening to the inner demons).
I’ve realised that the only human beings I have actual face to face conversations with regularly are my children and my husband. Not that there’s anything wrong in that of course.
I do have the occasional conversation with swim parents but mostly the sum total of my weekly conversations are more like instructions, along the lines of; “Kick” “Blow bubbles through your nose” “push and glide” “front crawl, let’s go!” – that sort of thing. Also not complaining about that, because it sure as hell beats the old me of the permanently strained voice and grumpy face and getting cross at unruly children.
My old teacher face
So, no, I am not missing the school teaching. Had a nightmare about being back in school the other day. The children were wild and one kept punching me in the nose. Senior leaders were telling me “It’s fine, just ignore it, there’s no point telling him off” while I was going apoplectic with rage at the injustice of it all. I woke up in a sweat.
I had a niggling feeling earlier on this week whilst in the midst of sorting swim certificates, medals and timetables (if people could stop changing their mind about bookings or timeslots – that’d be great!) that I was forgetting something important. I realised that due to the date being so close to the end of term, I was thinking I should be practising leavers assemblies, planning French story assemblies – ‘Le Chennile qui fait de trous’, ‘Les oeufs vert au jambon’ etc. Buying bottles of wine and other miscellaneous thank you gifts and all that sort of thing. But nope, not for me that stress this year. Just my certificates to award and swim school insurance to renew next month. **and breathe**
One bonus of abandoning ship and going solo is leaving behind the stresses of having to deal with children who perhaps, shall we say, might have benefited from a little more discipline. A downside is that I have no work friends. Just me, myself and I.
Unfortunately most of my work friends while I worked in school turned out to be my only local friends (for local people). This is what happen when you live and breathe school. Out of sight out of mind though and not for the first time, I realised this week that I’m not as likeable as I thought. Always considered myself a bit of an irritating cunt and it turns out I was right. (Possibly because I use words like ‘cunt’)
Definitely feeling rather surplus to anybody’s requirements this week. Perhaps that could be my epitaph? “Here lies Kit. She was good…But annoying”.
These thoughts brought on by the kind of petulant teenage behaviour I’m always talking to my eldest about – I got the huff for about 2 seconds when I saw pics on FB of some pals all gussied up for a night out. I let it slide, thinking, fair play to them, enjoy! Until the next day when I realised that even more of them had met up and gone out than I first thought. I was now looking like Malificent, left out of Aurora’s christening.
So then I felt somewhat ostracised from the group and I tried to brush it off because I’m a 47 years old and not a 15 year old girl, but I won’t lie, it still stung. Particularly as this wasn’t the first time this had happened. Felt marginally better when I found out that I wasn’t the only one who didn’t have the requisite requirements to warrant an invite Still a bit miffed TBH.
Meanwhile, I had a CT scan* this week too. That was fun. If your idea of fun consists of wearing hospital gowns, getting dye fed into your veins through a cannula which leaves a bad taste in your mouth and makes you feel as though you’re weeing, all whilst lying inside a noisy Stargate type machine while a bunch of nurses loom over you, asking if you could manage to keep your heart rate down a bit please.
*routine test booked by GP family dudes. Don’t start planning my wake just yet (nobody would turn up anyway I expect)
Just checking if anyone likes you – it’s a negatory I’m afraid