Work has been lurking around again, oh my brothers, a sword of Damocles hanging over my head.
This time it was in the form of invigilating at Daughter's school. Year 11's English Literature "O" level - or whatever fancy name they're giving themselves these days ! And do you know what, kids are given the book they are studying, along with their exam papers! Good grief! Why don't we just get our breasts out and wet-nurse them while we're at it!
My English lit exam would have been marked null and void if I'd had carried in my Wuthering Heights in with me, I tell you. You had to study the thing and know about it by the time you put pen to paper. You weren't allowed to pick up and study the bloody thing in exam time!
And I tell you what else isn't fair! They were studying "Catcher in the Rye". I love that bloody book! Why couldn't I have studied that one! Bastards! Wanted to pick one of the copies up and read it then and there. If a kid complained, I'd tell her to use her memory and brain, and if she'd done proper revision, she wouldn't have needed the bloody thing would she? And then slap the bitch and tell her to shut up.
However, o my brothers, as you have probably gathered, this is all Big Talk. The cheif invigilators, ie mums like me, are completely terrifying, and almost screechingly pedantic. I would not dare speak up in this way. I had to keep my notions of cossetted kids to my oddy-knocky.
This cheif invigilator - Marguerette - as it happens, was actually alright. A bit pinickety but actually not that megolmaniac - yet. But her number two - oh yes, there is always a number two - was not dissimilar to Gareth in The Office.
Whenever number One sat down (which is actually a bit cheeky), so did number Two. Until me and this bloke glared at her. And the minute number One walked down an aisle, number Two immediately took her place under the clock. It was almost hilarious, if my bloody feet didn't ache so much!
And then number One asked me to gather up all the books (CitR AND Mice and Men! Its not fair!) and leave them in the room for the afternooon exam. Which me, being number Six (I am not a number, I am a free man!) was happy to do. I don't mind that sort of shit. THEN Gareth said they should be moved onto the bench, rather than on the table. Well, I ignored the bitch and rolled my eyes at the bemused bloke. Isn't life really rather too short?
Do you know the most frightening thing? Neither number One nor number Two had read either of those books? The majority of parents at Daughter's school are university educated. Twice the education I have had. And these bastards do not know great literature. I mean a mother the other day, quite middle class and everything, had not heard of The Monkey's Paw! Still, at least this bloke invigilator had, so that brought some comfort.
Don't think I'm gonna last long at this one.