climb every mountain

Some days, the need for a day off is more pronounced than others. Thank goodness for days off. Every now and again I contemplate the 20% pay rise that working five days a week would bring, but generally some kind soul reminds me that teaching five days a week is a fast track to personal bad temper and general insanity. Given my current level of personal bad temper and general insanity this would definitely not be wise. Work continues to be...challenging. Still no Ofsted publication, still no new headteacher, still lots of teachers hiding behind things crying. Not ideal.

A man in a long sparkly coat covered in appliqué elephants tried to persuade me to become a storyteller this week. I confess that I was tempted. I have been wishing for a door to open recently, and wonder whether that might be it. Even though I have virtually no intention of following up this opportunity it's nice to think that it exists.

I had a bunch of other things to say about London and books and stuff like that but I have decided to keep it to myself. Not blogging is the new blogging. Writing about not blogging is web2 (er, three?) meta for a new millennium! I shall go and sit on the sofa and think inside my head instead.

good intentions

1. I'll go for a lunchtime walk around the park. God knows I need the exercise and the fresh air is good for me too. Only I have stinking period pain and it was cold and I was on duty this morning so maybe tomorrow. Though it might snow; so maybe next week.

2. I'll eat fruit when I get in from work instead of toast. The toast thing must stop. Then after the fruit I will eat bread and marmite. Oops.

3. I will do at least one drawing a day. Or a week. Or something. Goddammit, I'll draw. Maybe I'll just check my email reply to some comments write some comments have a bath do the washing up cook some dinner write a daft post and there's something on TV I want to watch.

There's always tomorrow.

simple pleasures (2)

Despite the fact that I love a wide variety of foods, when it all comes down to it I could probably live on toast. And as it happens, between January and May of last year toast in combination with houmous or marmite did form the backbone of my diet (which might explain why I lost quite a bit of weight: maybe I should write a diet book and clean up). When I am on holiday and eating lots of fine food I begin after a couple of weeks to crave beans on toast; which I rarely eat when I am at home. When I have a hangover I want toast and butter. When I am in a hurry and realise that I ought to eat I have cheese or scrambled eggs on toast. If I'm four o'clockish I do toast and jam. There would be a very large hole in my diet were I to give up toast.

And yes, I am aware of the Paul Young song.