I'm so...
...tired.
Who would have thought? Teaching is actually mind-bogglingly tiring. Plus one of the little darlings has given me what is delightfully known here as "Freshers' Flu", as students from all over the world bring their own particular germs, mix them all up in the crucible of the College bars, and serve them up with great love to their tutors. Thanks guys!
So, what with all the didactic activity, things have been pretty stretched. Which has not stopped my life from being a bit of a social whirl. Well, as close as I ever get to a social whirl, anyway. I not only ate at high table at my own college, but also had my first experience of Senior Common Room life at the college for which I teach. This is truly great. Imagine one of those big old drawing rooms, with strange wallpaper and the odd wood panel. It's like that, but provided with lots of newspapers and periodicals (including my favourite Private Eye), decent scotch, and its own writing paper. Very shiny indeed. And then you process into dinner, wearing gowns and looking superior to the students.
Following this, I went to my first proper dinner party last week - yes, at the age of 27, I had still never attended one of these events except as someone's annoying child who kind of put a damper on the evening. I may still have been annoying, but at least it was in my own right. Then, the very next day, I attended a lunchtime dinner party (don't know what the term is for those... "Lunch party"?) at which we were served rainbow chard. It's amazing! Surely vegetables aren't really allowed to be that exciting? So that was my weekend.
But you mustn't think, dear Reader, that the fun stops there and that the rest of this term will be a humdrum round of essay marking and dried pasta - oh no! In a bid to prove to me that Waitrose is not middle-class and middle-aged, I am being taken to the aforesaid temple of groceries on an outing this Saturday. I'm not sure this will do anything other than confirm my prejudices, but apparently they have great fruit compote.
Not much other news. My room is in that terminal state of bomb-hittedness from which it seems it will never recover. This disturbs me greatly, as I do like neatness, but I simply can't seem to summon up the energy to do anything about it. If only George Clooney were intending to pop in for coffee. I'd get myself tidied up pretty smartish then, I think...
Who would have thought? Teaching is actually mind-bogglingly tiring. Plus one of the little darlings has given me what is delightfully known here as "Freshers' Flu", as students from all over the world bring their own particular germs, mix them all up in the crucible of the College bars, and serve them up with great love to their tutors. Thanks guys!
So, what with all the didactic activity, things have been pretty stretched. Which has not stopped my life from being a bit of a social whirl. Well, as close as I ever get to a social whirl, anyway. I not only ate at high table at my own college, but also had my first experience of Senior Common Room life at the college for which I teach. This is truly great. Imagine one of those big old drawing rooms, with strange wallpaper and the odd wood panel. It's like that, but provided with lots of newspapers and periodicals (including my favourite Private Eye), decent scotch, and its own writing paper. Very shiny indeed. And then you process into dinner, wearing gowns and looking superior to the students.
Following this, I went to my first proper dinner party last week - yes, at the age of 27, I had still never attended one of these events except as someone's annoying child who kind of put a damper on the evening. I may still have been annoying, but at least it was in my own right. Then, the very next day, I attended a lunchtime dinner party (don't know what the term is for those... "Lunch party"?) at which we were served rainbow chard. It's amazing! Surely vegetables aren't really allowed to be that exciting? So that was my weekend.
But you mustn't think, dear Reader, that the fun stops there and that the rest of this term will be a humdrum round of essay marking and dried pasta - oh no! In a bid to prove to me that Waitrose is not middle-class and middle-aged, I am being taken to the aforesaid temple of groceries on an outing this Saturday. I'm not sure this will do anything other than confirm my prejudices, but apparently they have great fruit compote.
Not much other news. My room is in that terminal state of bomb-hittedness from which it seems it will never recover. This disturbs me greatly, as I do like neatness, but I simply can't seem to summon up the energy to do anything about it. If only George Clooney were intending to pop in for coffee. I'd get myself tidied up pretty smartish then, I think...
posted by EJ at 10:11 pm
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