This evening I am warm and fuzzy and have a nice smooth nose and I think I smell particularly delectable courtesy of a half-hour soak in my favourite rose and geranium-scented bath foam.
I have had filthy thoughts on-and-off about MW#1 for hours… I feel fairly disgusted with myself for thinking about him… I think I am pathetic and weak for doing so. I’m tired. Restraining myself and not letting shit get to me, shouting, being “on” all day… nothing particularly horrendous but just uber tired by it all.
A student insinuated that I picked on him when I kept him in over lunch for doing fuck all work because he was black- I said lazyness knows no skin colour barrier and that he should stop calling himself a nigga, it’s demeaning and we’re in the suburbs of Berkshire, not the heart of Compton (Iz u dizzy, blak???); a couple of threats of violence against me were then made by the same disgruntled student; kids absconded from my classroom. All joyous. I’m going to make all haste to crawl under the duvet and my blanket and hug Patrick tightly and hopefully drift off easily…
