375. Work

 7:03

I am downstairs. Having a cup of my designed-by-me morning drink. It is supposed to be a miracle drink: energy boosting and soothing at the same time, tons of health benefits (but do not ask me to list them)and also supposed to help deal with stress.

Well. It does not work very well. 

It is Wednesday and it should be the best day of the week yet it is already looking like hell on wheels.

I called Baby at 7 - from the bottom of the stairs, I rarely go up to the girls floor these days.

She shouted back something that I took for ‘Yes, mum, I’m up and getting dressed and will soon be downstairs for breakfast.’

And so I went downstairs. I was still happy at 7:09. I had turned the boiler up a few settings so it hummed all night but the house was warm. I was still happy at 7:13 when sipping my special drink and checking the news on my phone even though the news are quite depressing and I put it down to my super-drink.

At 7:13 the feeling of happiness started to wane as I realised there was no Baby in the room. I sighed and took a big gulp of the magic drink.

My phone lit up then as I got messages from my daughters. One wanting advice (happy feeling on the up) the other wanting help with some admin procedure (happy feeling sinking). I got up to get as far away from the phone as possible and got to the fridge to rustle up some unhealthy breakfast (the super-extra healthy drink making me totally ok with that).

I finished breakfast and started packing my bag. It was 7:41 and Baby was still not downstairs. I went and did some serious shouting at the bottom of the stairs. It went something like this.

‘What on earth are you doing up there? How long does it take to get ready? Are you putting too much make-up on? Are you curling your hair? How many outfits are you checking in front of the mirror? Because you are going to be late. On top of that you are not going to have time to have breakfast! So hurry up! …’

That was when the feeling of happiness was replaced by a feeling or exhaustion. I put on my bag my two scarves and went out making sure I slammed the front door. (If I could wake my son up at the same time that would be two birds with one stone.)

Then I went to work. I could only feel the cold and could not assess my feelings. (Talking about work invading your personal life: this obsession with assessing my feelings comes from an activity I am preparing on synonyms and emotion wheels for a class.)

I got to school (on time) and was at about 6 on a scale of one to ten on the happiness scale when the bell rang. I would have liked it to be a bell. Instead it was full blast from loudspeakers spread out in and around the buildings and grounds, yelling some kind of pop song with a dreadful quality. What is going on in that wretched place ? I walked all the way to the staff room where I saw some colleagues behaving in a totally normal manner (unlike me who was walking around with my ears covered up with neon pink gloves).

‘Doesn’t this drive you mad?’ I asked to no one in particular. ‘We must be the laughing stock of the whole town.’

‘The acoustic is so terrible.’ One says.

‘And the neighbouring houses, people must hate this ringing in their ears all day long!’

‘Maybe we should speak to the union rep?’

So, after all, I am not a mad loner. I might even be normal.

8:03 and I am feeling happy again as I am rushing up the four flights of stairs to reach the classroom allocated to me on Wednesdays for periods 1 and 2.

9:55. The ‘normal’ bell goes. I had forgotten that I am due in the other building for exam supervision. I had meant to let them go a little early. Never mind. At least it’s a star on my good teacher’s ratings. The kids pack their bags and leave the room. It takes me a few minutes to pack the mess of papers and pens and markers spread out on my desk. To log out of the classroom computer and to go down four flights of stairs.

This being the only time when I can see my colleague - rarely colleagues plural - I decide to go to the only coffee machine in the school and decide that drinking hot coffee while supervising 5 kids for two hours will be good for me (and keep me up on that happy scale). 

I get to the coffee machine and there is a big line of school kids. Luckily a colleague pities me and buys me a coffee. I am on 10/10 on the happy scale and then immediately sink back down to zero.

The colleague I’m replacing in the exam room will have NO break (technically I have had none either and I havent been able to go to the loo and now I have this huge cup of coffee, bad thinking?) because of me. I hope it is someone I do not like.

I push the door. I’m sinking in the below zero territory here. it is someone I appreciate. He has had no break and has to walk all the way to the annex (no coffee, no pee) and here’s me with a smile and a cup of coffee. 

He leaves the room. I sit down and assess my feelings. It is 10:13 and I have felt:

- angry

- annoyed

- furious

- tired

- stressed

- worried

- concerned

- angry

- guilty

- claustrophobic

And just because I know I can’t now I want to pee.