What I saw between my legs on a seat at a Métro station in August.
How the heck am I?
Good thanks. Not much going on in my life that’s particularly note-worthy. I drag myself into school, I do my usual mix of social work, mediation, paperwork and a bit of actual teaching, then I leave. After school clubs, parents evenings, avoiding marking where I can. The usual. Trip to Kew again next week with the Sixth Form which I am looking forward to (Sixth Formers = Good People). Weekly application of Pilates and lengths in the pool and Hawaii Five-0.
Me and Coppell continue to Skype, call, email and text. Our chats continue to be interesting and we’re both finding out new things about each other, whilst at the same time feeling pretty comfortable. We can spend hours talking about important stuff (e.g. our personal issues) and total crap (e.g. what is the plural of Lego). Actually, the ability to discuss both of those not entirely polar opposites is super important.
I think daily about my upcoming trip to see him, taking trips to imaginary places together whilst wishing I was alongside him in the real world. I stand in the shower and grin randomly as he pops into my head. I imagine curling up with him and feeling the warmth through his clothes. I smile as I think of waking up next to him. Gah. It’s not all rainbows and waterfalls though; I spend time pondering things like “What happens if he doesn’t turn up?” “What if when we kiss it’s not the same?” “What if he doesn’t move to the UK?” “What if i’m allergic to his dog?” Only one of those things can I take medication to allay.
Anyway, I’ve booked tickets to go look around Fallingwater which i’m really looking forward to; I can’t say i’m a particular fan of Frank Lloyd Wright (i’m more of a Richard Neutra gal), but of all his work the house about to tip into the waterfall is the one i’d most like to see. I just hope the weather doesn’t put the kibosh on going.
This is another thing that concerns me- the weather over the next month. From what I can remember over the last few years the snow tends to arrive in the last couple of weeks of term, i.e. around the time i’m due to leave the country. Given how horrendously Heathrow coped with the snow last year I think i’m right to have concerns, but at the same time I have no control over the weather so i’d better just deal.
I’m in the process of organising the annual night of food, booze and dancing to commemorate another year on the planet; really there’s not much to organise other than getting people together. Each year is pretty similar – meet, eat a lovely dinner, drink to excess, dance to Eighties music, drink some more, meet hungover and indeed probably still drunk in the morning for brunch. If it ain’t broke etcetera etcetera. Will be ace to see everyone.
SIX weeks.
