Hope Springs

So there was a seriously Sticky Situation this week when my Year 8 pupils stumbled across my Sticky's Situations blog!  Ooops.  I cannot actually believe I have been such a naive dickhead up until this point to think that children don't bother googling their teachers...  Fortunately Kate overheard the giggling at what we think was an early juncture in the proceedings and I managed to navigate my way around the school firewall and shut it down, quickly.  Jeebus.  Big lesson to be learnt there, mainly that 13 year old boys may find it relatively amusing to read about their Drama Teacher's sex life and learn that she likes to say 'Fuck' a lot.

FUCK!

The craziness that has been threatening for months is peaking right now.  The play is on Wednesday and Thursday next week and we are rehearsing pretty much every minute between now and then.  The kids are dropping like flies.  The low point of yesterday's rehearsal was one of the cast breaking his wrist.  Great.  He cheerfully waved his plaster cast in my face this afternoon at the school fair and I'm trying to convince myself it adds extra depth to his character...  Another parent caught me at the fair to tell me that his son wouldn't be at the Dress Rehearsal tomorrow as he had a temperature of 104.  I guess that is a pretty good excuse.  However, when the Dad jokingly said to me that it was funny but the boy still wanted to attend, I'm not sure he expected me to fix him with a steely stare and say that if the boy was that committed to his art then who were we to stand in his way?  Luckily, I managed to chuck in a fake laugh just in time so he may have thought I was joking.  I wasn't.  As for the child who isn't coming due to a fencing competition...please don't get me started.  According to HIS Dad, it will be fine as the play is AGES away.  95 and a half hours to be precise.

FUCK.

It will be fine, it will be fine, it will be fine.  Kate was in Tesco one morning at 7.30am last week and texted me to ask if I would like anything.  "Gin and valium" I replied.  I brought my own bottle of tonic but I think she thought I was joking.  I'm sure 7.30am in the UK is gin and tonic drinking time somewhere in the world!

The boys I'm directing, I haven't taught before and if I'm honest I don't think they find me that funny.  I don't think I am particularly funny either at the moment.  I am dog tired.  I have threatened to cut off someone's hair for fiddling with it too much, asked someone else to put their socks back on due to foul smelling feet and had a distinctly sticky situation yesterday when I threatened to shove a broom that was being messed around with up... and I managed to stop myself just in time and change it to 'shove it up into a cupboard'.  Phew.  I had yet another nasty moment the other day when the Headmaster popped in to see how it was all going and I am really not sure if I replied: "It's going to be brilliant", or, "It's going to be fucking brilliant".  It's a good, good job that I'm leaving, if they think the play that I'm directing is 'not very Lochinver' then I think we are all realising that I'm 'not particularly Lochinver' either!