Yesterday I mended the tip-ex mouse, helped the secretary with some tricky stuff on her computer and maybe taught a year 8 kid some maths (“maybe” because I’m not sure how much stuck.). I feel those are 3 good uses of a day.
Today I have nothing of note to mention. I assume I must have done something because I’ve been awake for many hours. When I try to remember my achievements, all I can think of are the things I still haven’t done yet. Things that need doing, things I could have done earlier, things I should probably be doing right now instead of writing this.
Funny how different days can be. Or at least one’s attitude towards them.
Sometimes I feel like a little kid.
Sometimes I don’t care.
Some days can be saved by an hour or so of undivided attention from a duvet.
Today was one of those days.
Having been undividedly attentioned by my duvet I am now ready to get up and make polite conversation over dinner.
Thank you duvet! 😉
I’m in southern Germany in a hostel with 11 other people. The hostel has one shower and we’ve all spent the day on the slopes. I think I’m the last of the unshowered. I don’t care, I have a good book (and a post to write :)).
I hardly ever mind waiting as long as I have something to do (or read) – even 7 hour train journeys (which are basically just waiting to get somewhere) don’t bother me.
However. What really does bother me, is when there’s a queue and people push in. Especially when the pushers are children and nobody cares or says anything. Maybe being English is an unhelpful attribute when skiing, maybe I’m just not pushy enough, maybe my skiing trousers make me invisible, who knows. What I do know, is that people are inclined to push past you in the queue in an effort to get on the lift first. There are sneaky pushers and flat out blatant pushers. When they’re old enough to know better, you can get stroppy, when they’re smaller it’s more complicated. When the only contact you have with them is the queuing time you don’t know who belongs to whom. I don’t think parents appreciate strangers telling their kids off, and there’s an unwritten rule that it isn’t done, so I usually hold my peace, but it is so tempting to say something. Or bash them with a ski pole. Or their parents for that matter.
- Keeping a group of seven 7-12 year old boys together for 2 hours while changing rooms 12 times (circuit training) is a challenge.
- Keeping your cool even more so 😉
- They are amazingly willing to please, as long as you tell them EXACTLY what you want them to do and why… Ok, so they still don’t always do it, but they’re a whole lot better than if you think they’ll figure it out by themselves (“When this training session is over, I want you ALL to wait for me at this door *points*, so that we can all go to room x – that’s the room next to the kitchen – in one group. If you run off, I’ll have to waste time coming to find you, and then we won’t be able to start on time and that means you get less time juggling/jumping/balancing/etc.” -> “this door?” “where’s the kitchen?” “Soandso’s missing” “hey! come back, you’re supposed to wait for the rest of us!” :)). I only worked this out 20 minutes before the end of the session. I was fed up of chasing them in 7 directions, round them up and herding them back to where they where supposed to be so I
had a small headfit told them it wasn’t working and explained what I expected of them when we left the next room.
- I’m much more likely to cheer on the ones who are struggling, than applaud the ones who can do it first time round (may have to work on that..)
- Girls are more likely to make fun of my accent.
- I still can’t juggle.
- Or use a microphone properly – but I’m learning 🙂
- But I CAN still twizzle sticks in the air and catch them again (I think they’re called devil sticks? not sure)
- AND whizz poi about 🙂
- I can’t follow instructions (and there I was, thinking I was such a great leader-by-example ;)). My group and I had a ‘magic lesson’ involving a piece of rope and the instruction to “do EXACTLY what the magician said/did”… I only figured out why I was stranging myself instead of having the ropes fall off me when he explained it to me. The second or third time.
- I can survive standing in front of 130 odd kids leading the actions from the action-songs (even if I don’t know the words or half the actions ;)).
- I can also survive being one of the leading roles in a mini-theatre..
- My phone can’t play Youtube videos.
- Making sure 2 tables of 6 small people are kept fed and watered is a lot of work. The benefits are the extra icecream you get to eat 😉
So. I think that’s it for the day. I’ll keep you posted.
Way back when I was small, my grandparents used to take us (my siblings and me) on holiday for a week in summer. When my folks arrived to pick us up, the grandparents could almost be guaranteed to say: “rather a week than a fortnight” and “we’ll think we’ve gone deaf”. As a kid I didn’t really get what they meant. I mean, we thought we’d had a great holiday, and they agreed it’d been loads of fun.
I’m currently volenteering at a circus workshop for kid’s..
There are something like 130 5 to 13 yr olds and man are they LOUD!!
They’re also here for a week..
Obviously it’s not Friday yet, but when it IS.. I have a feeling I will have a better understanding of both sayings!