I went to a meeting tonight. I agreed to go along a couple of weeks ago even though it was for something that I'd decided that I would not get all that involved in.
Basically a collectively run server. I had agreed to take minutes.
Anyway, I turned up and there a friend proceeded to tell me just how wonderful I am. "You're great and what you're doing is making a real difference and we really appreciate your efforts". I rolled my eyes. I'd assumed he had read some of the comments on the blog and was mocking me.
It turned out that he'd been talking to someone from Point England School and was just passing on a message. I'm a New Zealander - we really don't take compliments well.
Anyway, I'm sitting in this meeting. Unfortunately the place we'd been planning on going to was booked out so we ended up at the pub next door. I've been to meetings at this place before and it's less than ideal. The long table by the door, which looks tempting for a meeting, is also right under a speaker and some rather uncomfortable bench seats which end with me feeling a little hemmed in.
I was sitting there with pencil and pad taking notes. The only thing - I was tired. Like really tired. I was as distracted as an 11 year old without a netbook (the classroom can be eerily quiet when kids are focused on something as fun as a netbook).
I was gazing across the pub at a woman whose smile filled her face and she did it frequently. And the salt shaker on the table had a ideal geometric quality to it. The lights on the ceiling kept changing colours using tri-colour LEDs and of course, I had just rolled up a piece of paper and there was an empty glass far enough away to be tempting. So on and so fourth. (That smile really was great - imagine a smile like that in your life...)
By the end of the night, around 10, I was barely able to stand and my speech had become slurred. I kept pacing while waiting for the bus. The guy with the migraine gave me a sympathetic look as I told him I had to be up at 6.
I think last night I mentioned a blog by another Nevyn. She'd done a post about her inability to say "no". So when I was invited to be one of the adults on a field trip to a beach (Given that it's the classes with the netbooks, it seems a good idea), of course I said yes. And then was told that I'd have to be there by 8:45 and that I would need a pair of togs.
I'm one of those people who likes sitting under a tree reading a book or lying on the beach. I seldom get into the water. I'm not a great swimmer. In fact, I'm quite crap at it. So after a bit of initial objection ("Do I really really have to bring togs?"), I agreed. Still, I'm spending a Friday at the beach. A chance to work on my tan. Brilliant! Also, a chance to deal with some of my unease with some of my relationships with some of the teachers. I suspect I'm picking up on anxiety.
So, it's time to go to bed. 6am start. How do people do it? I know people say the same about me about the sort of hours I keep but seriously, this is a strange and usual punishment! I get grumpy if anyone calls me before 11 normally. The best hours for concentrating for me is in the evening. Everyone's in bed, the phone doesn't ring, no one knocks on the door etc. There's a chance for some real momentum. 6am is a good time for bed...