46. Back at work (5/6)
Monday. I fail to see the funny side of things. The long stretch of fences in the main courtyard and the stickers on the ground instructing us to keep one meter apart and to stay in a single file look out of place and just plain stupid.
They remind me of passport control queues at an airport, long and winding. Except I am on my own. I can go whichever way I want. Even the guards at the entrance have left. They've probably retired in a back room somewhere for a cup of coffee. I go to the staffroom the wrong way and in there a few people are chatting about holiday plans, face in full view - no masks. That cheers me up a little.
I am fooled into thinking things are back to normal and make my way to the coffee machine. It's got black and yellow tape all over it. I shudder thinking there might have been a crime.
I go to the loo and the place stinks of such a strong disinfectant that I nearly choke. I can not understand why the Dyson type hand-drier has been replaced by rolls and rolls of tissue. It seems like it was yesterday only when we were lectured about not using anything disposable. Now disposable is good. Worse, disposable is necessary.
I'm lost. This world does not make sense. This world is absurd. And I cannot see the funny side of things anymore.
I go up to class. I realise the corridor 'guards' are walking up and down and they too have taken their masks off.
I find Room 209 following the arrows and sit in there for a while. No-one comes. I decide to go to the photocopying room just to check the machines are still working. They are. I make a few copies to reassure myself. Then I decide to cheer myself up by making a short video of the arrows with a running commentary. Someone in the corridor sees me and looks at me as if I am a weirdo (which I am). I retreat back into the room. Oh no, la marche en avant! Too late! I go back in the room and close the door (Oh no! I've touched the handle). I want to scream! I want to go home!
No bell to tell me the break is over. Anyway it's not a break without a coffee. And I'm so thirsty! I go to room 404. One kid. I go into private lesson mode. I give her homework. She says:
'Miss, I won't see you for an other two weeks.'
So I walk back down to 209 which is right by the steps. Two yards from me on the landing. I can see the door and read 209 on it but I have to go all the way down and all the way round the playing fields and back in the other way and therefore walk the whole length of the second floor corridor to reach 209. All along this long round about way, I see not a soul. I'm thinking. Why am I doing this?
Room 209. No kids. I fiddle around with the computer and my phone. No papers to mark. No exams to prepare. I should have brought a book along. Then I decide I've done enough waiting and I go home.
I'll be back tomorrow. But I'll pack: drinks, food, a book or two, my computer (for blogging) and maybe my watercolours too.
They remind me of passport control queues at an airport, long and winding. Except I am on my own. I can go whichever way I want. Even the guards at the entrance have left. They've probably retired in a back room somewhere for a cup of coffee. I go to the staffroom the wrong way and in there a few people are chatting about holiday plans, face in full view - no masks. That cheers me up a little.
I am fooled into thinking things are back to normal and make my way to the coffee machine. It's got black and yellow tape all over it. I shudder thinking there might have been a crime.
I go to the loo and the place stinks of such a strong disinfectant that I nearly choke. I can not understand why the Dyson type hand-drier has been replaced by rolls and rolls of tissue. It seems like it was yesterday only when we were lectured about not using anything disposable. Now disposable is good. Worse, disposable is necessary.
I'm lost. This world does not make sense. This world is absurd. And I cannot see the funny side of things anymore.
I go up to class. I realise the corridor 'guards' are walking up and down and they too have taken their masks off.
I find Room 209 following the arrows and sit in there for a while. No-one comes. I decide to go to the photocopying room just to check the machines are still working. They are. I make a few copies to reassure myself. Then I decide to cheer myself up by making a short video of the arrows with a running commentary. Someone in the corridor sees me and looks at me as if I am a weirdo (which I am). I retreat back into the room. Oh no, la marche en avant! Too late! I go back in the room and close the door (Oh no! I've touched the handle). I want to scream! I want to go home!
No bell to tell me the break is over. Anyway it's not a break without a coffee. And I'm so thirsty! I go to room 404. One kid. I go into private lesson mode. I give her homework. She says:
'Miss, I won't see you for an other two weeks.'
So I walk back down to 209 which is right by the steps. Two yards from me on the landing. I can see the door and read 209 on it but I have to go all the way down and all the way round the playing fields and back in the other way and therefore walk the whole length of the second floor corridor to reach 209. All along this long round about way, I see not a soul. I'm thinking. Why am I doing this?
Room 209. No kids. I fiddle around with the computer and my phone. No papers to mark. No exams to prepare. I should have brought a book along. Then I decide I've done enough waiting and I go home.
I'll be back tomorrow. But I'll pack: drinks, food, a book or two, my computer (for blogging) and maybe my watercolours too.
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