Planet Mad

When I inherited the D of E at school, I was handed a big ring-binder and told, "This is all about quality review. You'll need to do this." That was in September. Now, being February, I've finally got round to it. The ring-binder contained not one, not two but THREE questionnaires, all stretching to five or six pages long. Much of it was coporate-wanky-bollocks-poncing-about questions: the only way to tackle this was over a bottle or two of wine. This seemed as good a reason as any to cook food, so today the leader of the Gold group had my lasagne inflicted upon him (good job he has a sound constitution!) while I whittered on about D of E. The general concensus of the evening is that the quality questionnaires are rubbish, that the lasagne and wine were nice, and that we like the status quo. Maybe we're all conservatives at heart.*

Now the world is nicely swimmy. I was going to do some marking, but marking when tiddly results in comments like, "I love you, you're my favourite student, this is a great piece of work," or, "SHITE!" Instead, I decided to phone my blokey, who's out with the Other Woman #2 - I'm a table football widow. If I can't mark, and I can't wibble on at Rob, then all I can do is blog. As you have probably already realised, this is probably a bad thing. All I can say in my defence is that James Joyce got a lot of credit for writing in a stream of consciousness. Shame I'm not in his league. Wibble.

* conservatives with a small cee; none of that tory shite around here, thank you very much!