Wednesday, May 24, 2006


I'm on first aid this week. It's a job I loathe. Everyone loathes it. There is nothing nice about trying to eat your lunch and being interrupted every few mintues with yet another case of "I feel sick". I have no idea how parents go with telling the real from the fake. They all put on that pouty face and look about the same to me. Sure there are the severe cases where you can tell that the kid is about to die because they're pale and haven't even finished eating their sunny boy (best part of lunch eh?) but apart from that it's all a guessing game really. I guess nowadays kids have less chance of staying home especially if both parents work! Maybe kids don't want to put the work required in either. I know that Ferris Bueller had the fabulous guide to faking out the parents but who the hell is going to go to that kind of trouble anymore? I did it a few times, of course but I had hard arse parents who wouldn't put up with any of that shit.

Once, while trying to stay home from school (test) mum plugged a thermometer in my mouth and went to make a coffee. Having read some great advice about running the thermometer under some hot water until the mercury went higher I turned straight onto my side and dipped the thing in my cup of tea. Of course it burst in about two seconds and mercury went everywhere. When mum came in I had broken glass in my hand and a guilty look on my face gee, my temperature must be really high - look it broke. I think I actually said that.

The thing about the school fake out is that you never really know if they're lying or not. In the end you spend the whole of lunchtime on the blower to the 'rents discussing whether the kid is lying or not. If you don't call then you get the parent coming up to school in a rage blaming the teachers for neglect and if you do call them then you get the tut tut of disturbing their day. You can't win, I tell ya!

Anyway, the worst thing about being on first aid and walking in and out of the sick bay all day, smelling bad smells and coming into contact with germs is that by the end of lunch on a Wednesday arvo you feel like absolute shit..
..and then you realise you have a staff meeting after school. ugh.

*edit* this has nothing to do with the point of the entry (though the entry, like everything else I write actually has no point..) but last night I had a dream that my life was a British TV show (comedy) - they don't really have 'sitcoms' but it was sort of like that excellent show The IT Crowd (highly recommend) or Black Books. Folks, my dream had a laugh track! Is this what being on crack feels like? Does anyone else have fucked up dreams like mine? Noone else ever posts their dreams so I have no idea. But I feel like I'm on my own with this one.