363. (Hopefully) the end.

 The last meeting wasn't the last time I had to be in school. The never ending school year is the new concept. So this morning I dragged myself out of bed, got into some respectable enough clothes with no paint on them, and tore myself away from my house with the bright red and Depp grey façade. I try to sound cheerful when I say hello to the roofers across the road who are not responsible for the disastrous state of affairs in the educational world. They are, however, totally responsible for the mess they are making in the street, the racket they are making shouting at each other and also of the roof not yet finished after almost two weeks. I don't tell them however. I quite like them, they are funny and have a very down-to-earth approach to everything which I am envious of.

I get to work and nothing major seems to be happening. I check the list of kids but it's boring because a) they've all passed and b) we've known that anyway for the last 4 months. No, what I am looking for is the list of the ones who have failed (do not say that too loud). I think maybe someone could have highlighted the names of the ones who have failed but not so terribly failed that they are allowed to sit an oral exam to transform their failure into success. Which is where I become useful. Isn't that great?

I go up the stairs and head to the classroom. There is an air of abandonment, the chairs and tables are still there in the corridors but all the list of names and all the papers taped to the doors and boards have been removed. It is quiet and empty. When I get to the upstairs meeting room there is a handful of teachers. I try to make conversation but no-one has anything interesting or funny to say. They all sound boring (I can say that here, it's my blog after all). I try to find out the names of the kids who have failed so that I could see if I am needed (to help them prepare for the oral that will save them). I only get the useless information that there are 9 of them. Nine. 

I am starting to get restless (unlike my colleagues who are waiting patiently, even the one who lives an hour away). Here is the head of school coming my way, I straighten up and ask him if there is a list of the names of the 9 f... students. Sorry. 

'I'll go and get it.'

And off he goes. Funny because the assistant-head has just behaved in exactly the same way. I heard her say only a couple of minutes ago the same thing to someone: 'No, I don't have the list, I left it in the office, I'll go and get it.'

Weird.

Anyway. I can only wait patiently for the list of 9 candidates to see if I am required or not. 

And I wait some more. It's ok the offices are a long way away: along the corridor, down one flight of stairs, across the hall and down an other corridor, up a couple of stairs, along a tiny corridor, left into another longer corridor, then a heavy door with a no entry sign which takes you into a parlour (yes, a parlour) and then an other door and then an other wide corridor and there is the office. Hopefully th exists are there because it it is in the head's office it is all the way along the long wide corridor, up a wide wooden flight of stairs and here we go.

So I wait some more. I don't want the guy to run and come back out of breath. So I wait very patiently.

Here is my man! Back in a jiffy. I'm expecting him to hand me o ver a short list with the names of the failed students. But instead he just stands in front me, looking dead serious and maybe a little mean and he starts reading from the list! And every time he gets to a failed name he waits for a split second.

'No.' I say.

Every time he stops. Every time I say no. 9 times. And then I go home, glad I live a short walk away from the school and glad the weather is sunny and dry.