Crisis Inducing Spouses

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series (in the Secondary phase of the Radio play I think) has the cloned archaeologist Lintila who has a crisis inducer- a device designed purely to create a crisis to make you work harder because bored people are less productive. "Nothing is more useless than a bored archaeologist". Obviously she lived alone. Those of us who are married or live with someone know that such an item would be redundant. Significant others have the knack of inducing crises down-pat. Who better than your beloved life partner to take the time and effort to randomly create those dramas that mean life shall never become too dull or predictable? Becoming bored or stale with your own routine and systems that unfailingly push you long through life's chores and errands is simply not a problem. I know I can regularly be enormously appreciative of Matt for ensuring my life does not become too monotonously organised and structured. I'm pretty sure I return the favour by inducing several colourful crises myself. Today was a prime example fit to illustrate my point. Monday mornings are not my shining, happy time of the week. It signals the end of the weekend, the fun and relaxed freedom of that time, and the commencement of the working week*. Working week is boring time. I make sure I arrive at work early enough to prepare for the day, be there in time to make a coffee and get a good seat for morning Staff briefing. My day is dictated by timetables and meeting schedules. Routine followed by more routine. However, nothing induces a little adrenaline-fuelled crisis more than frantically realising as I'm about to leave the house that Matt has left with my keys. I ran around for a while suspecting that I had in fact lost my keys in a subconscious effort to induce my own crisis. However, this was not the case. I discovered Matt's keys lying gloating in their smugness on the table gleefully proving that Matt must have in fact driven with my keys. Crisis decision-making point: Do I wait and hope Matt realises he has the wrong keys and comes back home? Do I grab the spare key for the car and rely on my lock-picking skills to break into my classroom at school? I realise that I in fact, unlike many of my better thought-out Roleplaying characters, have neglected to pick up any lock-picking skills. For a while I contemplate that I am missing several essential skills needed in many con-type scenarios. Would I have a reasonable dodge skill? Maybe. I make a mental note to practice dodging more often and see if I can take a course in lock-picking at one of those community education places. The minutes flash past. There is no sign that Matt will return or that I will spontaneously level up thus obtaining the much needed lock-picking skills. I decide to leave. I run out to the car and reverse out of the garage and down the driveway in record time. My heart is pounding. Only 7 minutes until Staff Briefing (or T-7 as I prefer to think of it). I pull into school and park my car. I dump my lunch in the kitchen and do necessary photocopying at a ruthless speed that frightens both myself and the photocopier (the beast otherwise known as 'lesser nemesis' - the Risograph is the true Super Villain of resource copying). My crisis fuelled fingers nimbly swipe my card into the photocopier and it dares not to misread my card for once! My lightning digits tap out instructions - number of copies, double-sided, A4. It's all go. I stand there grabbing the warm flurry of sheets and deftly punch holes through the whole pile before they even have a chance to know what is going on**. This is the stuff that legends are made of. It's now T-3. I have 3 minutes to find a key that will let me open my classroom and the resource cupboard as I need a video-player for period 3. I find a teacher who I can borrow a key from! Heh. On fire. I bound over to my class. I write my Advance Organiser and Starting Questions on the board for first class. The Whiteboard pens squeak submissively but dare not run out. T-1 Having finished preparing my classroom and en route at power-walking speeds to the staffroom. Coffee and good seat shall not be denied me! Not on this watch. T-0 Clutching cup of coffee and happily ensconced in a comfy chair with padding and arms, the staff briefing begins. I can still feel the adrenaline and feel vastly more awake than usual for a Monday morning. After the staff briefing I'm about to leave when the school's secretary comes up to me and tells me I have to go to the front office. Huh? I thought only naughty kids got sent there or ones who forgot their lunch or something. I wander over and see that Matt is waiting there with my keys. He drove all the way from his school. Crisis over (for me anyway - I guess he had to get back and was running late). With the security of my own keys, I rapidly begin to feel a little relaxed and sluggish. What a relief to be back to normal. * The working week is a time regulated by external signals and contains little choice. You wake up when the alarm goes off, you start and end classes when the bell rings, you eat during the lunchtime and can only go to the bathroom during interval and lunch breaks. ** Which I suspect is the key to organising one's photocopying. Ordinarily the sheets of paper have time to consort and form a plan when they emerge from the copier. One piece of paper in the middle will somehow manage to avoid get hole-punched, others will ever so slightly sneak up or down so the holes won't be centred and sheets will stick to other pieces of paper and not get printed on. Then there are the kamikaze ones who sacrifice themselves by getting jammed just to screw up the print run.

What the...? Where did all the time go?

Well, Term 1 2006 seemed to have raced off at a disorienting speed and I've found myself near the end of Week 3 with a exhausted and bewildered feeling not disimiliar to jet-lag. Under such circumstances I can, I think, be forgiven for the lack of bloggage. Classes are going as well as can be expected. I really like my Year 10 class and as those who are or have been in the education field know, that is a rare and much-to-be-envied thing. Many sage-like teachers have passed on their wisdom about such things* and apparently Year 10 is the generally accepted year where young and sweet year 9's turned into 'adolescents' and the side-effects of the puberty-fuelled devlopment is often not pleasant in terms of attitude and behaviour. I seem to remember that there was about a 6 month period*** around that age when I was just constantly grumpy _all the time_. It was a pretty miserable experience for me because being angry with the whole world isn't as much fun as you would think it might be. I suppose it probably wasn't that great for the people who had to be around me either. In fact, now I come to think of it, maybe that's why my former Year 10 English teacher was so shocked to bump into me in one of my English Honours classes. She said something about it being surprising and that I was "slow and uninterested in English at school" which I was a little miffed and attributed it to her bad teaching. After all, I did pretty well at English at school for my exams. But maybe she wasn't actually a bad English teacher. Maybe I was just one of those typical Year 10 students in her class. Weird to think about how you might have been perceived as a youth. Did I come accross as a sullen, unpleasant student with the wit and enthusism of a turnip? Such idle musings make me wonder how I am perceived now... Actually I'm trying to force a link to Johari here but I was going to do a link to my Johari anyway after seeing them on others blogs and such. It was actually tricky to narrow it down to 6 adjectives - I could have clicked a whole bunch. I wonder if I've have that problem with Nohari...**** * There is a lot of beard-stroking** in staff rooms where the elders past on their experience and knowledge through anecdotes and scathing cynicism. ** Although in the case of some women, the beard is purely metaphorical. *** Certain siblings may try to claim that it was for a somewhat longer length of time but that is merely a sign of their senility. :-) **** I'm not going to bother with a Nohari. I feel no compulsion to be balanced in self-analysis and reflection. I don't like to be mean about myself and too likely to get miffed if others clicked on well anything really. I guess that means I'm oversensitive? Blah, I'm too tired for self-improvement - maybe I dissect my flaws***** and work on them later... ***** I suppose I'll have to add 'lazy' and 'procrastinates' to the ever-increasing flaws list.

The 'better late than never' Wedding Post

Well, Jenni and Lee's wedding was on Sunday and it was a deservedly flawless and thoroughly enjoyable occasion. The fun and relaxed vibe that floated merrily about the large and atmospheric castle venue* belied the hours of organisation that always go into these occasions. The bridesmaids (interesting typo I just had to correct of the 'bribemaids' - I don't know actually what a bribemaid would do, but it doesn't sound entirely decent) were so pretty. The vibrant teal/turquoise (was it teal or turquoise? Are they in fact the same colour?) dresses were sleek and sassy, and they were well-complimented with some great hair and accessories. The 'shiny happy people' radiance of the bridal party was outsparkled only by Jenni's awesome Tiara of ultimate shiny. Obviously, Jenni was a supremely beautiful bride and the dress was stunning enough to have stopped a horde of rampaging bison** but the tiara won the covetous hearts of all true 'shiny-thing' fanciers like myself. I have noticed that I am, true to my usual form, drivelling on about the ladies' attire and ignoring the men-folk. I guess I don't usually pay much attention to boy clothing but I did notice that Lee's shirt had a nice swirly design in the fabric. I have become something of a wedding connoisseur over the years having been to more than a few. They are always fun and I love to see folks I care about looking beautiful and sharing such a special moment in their lives with them. Also the food and refreshments are delicious.*** Well, I'm not sure what else there is to say except congratulations to the happy couple. Well done Jenni and Lee! It was a lovely wedding for a lovely couple. Oh and aren't you glad I restrained Matt and prevented him from writing, "may the seed of your loins be fruitful in the belly of your woman" in your guest book? * So COOL!!! I want a castle of my very own! Or at least I want to be able to borrow one regularly. ** If bison have a tendency to halt in their tracks when they see pretty dresses and I think they do (although I have no scientific data to back this up…) *** I think it says something quite wonderful about the high quality of my friends and family that in over 80% of the weddings I have attended, the couples have made what I consider to be one of the most commendable decisions of their lives just as Matt and I did 5 and 1/2 years ago. That is, they have wisely opted for chocolate wedding cake rather than the granny-pleasing fruit cake which, lets face it, not that many of us with our own teeth actually like and even if we don't mind the odd slice of fruit cake, we still prefer chocolate because it is, well, chocolate.