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Wine o'clock

  Fri 16th February 2018

I wonder how much longer I'll last. I'm out of my depth. I'm scared of the children and dread every day I go to school -- which at the moment is six days a week. I get paid again on 10th March, at which point I'll have the air fare home.

I did two very stupid things yesterday. I had two glasses of wine before I went to school, and vigorous teeth brushing was insufficient to conceal the wine breath. Late in the afternoon, Lidia and I were sat together in her empty classroom. She came over all serious, over-reaching herself in claiming to be a friend and that she knows me well. "Did you take a drink yesterday?" I said I'd met up with someone for a couple of drinks the previous evening. She said that another teacher had remarked upon it too.

Then, in the evening, I decided to plumb further depths of idiocy in acting against my own interests. I went to chat to the people in a refrigeration equipment company who want English lessons and I have agreed to twice weekly two hour lessons with them. When I finish school I cannot get home quickly enough; now, I've signed myself up to working more hours at the end of the day, with a bus journey home that is about forty-five minutes. I couldn't care less about the £17 an hour it will bring in, and I need to work out a way of getting out of this before the first lesson on Tuesday.


The owners of my house in Lancaster have put it up for sale. Kim said a while ago that I can stay with her in Durham over the summer, which I'll enjoy; and Trina's said that I can stay on her narrowboat. It just would have been handy to have my own base in Lancaster.


I rang Kitty the other night. She broke off for a couple of minutes to speak to me as she was in an informal meeting with her boss and said that she'd ring back a little later.

She forgot to put the phone down afterwards and I heard her say "that was looby. Kazakhstan. You kind of love him but want to strangle him at the same time." We had a good laugh about it when she rang back. I could listen to her voice every day. Just laughing with her for a few minutes was joyful, something in short supply here.

8 comments

Comment from: Homer [Visitor]

You know how much I hated teaching but give the refrigeration company a go, hey? They’re adults so 1) they’ll be polite and 2) they’ll actually want to be there. It sounds like you’ll be coming home sooner rather than later so every £34 session counts.

Oh, and that’s the most perfect description of you!

Fri 16th February 2018 @ 07:07 Reply to this comment
Comment from: looby [Visitor]

Good points Homer. I just wish I’d never signed up to it in the first place. Of all my worries here, money isn’t one of them.

I’ll tell Kitty about the description :)

Fri 16th February 2018 @ 23:36 Reply to this comment
Comment from: kono [Visitor]

Next time they ask if you took a drink just smile and say, “have you looked around this fucking place? you’d have to be drunk to do this shit.” You’ll either get a free ticket home or they’ll stop asking, either way, sorted!

Sun 18th February 2018 @ 12:57 Reply to this comment
Comment from: looby [Visitor]

I could do I suppose. They need me more than I need them.

Mon 19th February 2018 @ 00:41 Reply to this comment
Comment from: daisyfae [Visitor]

My father loved teaching adults going to night school. People who worked all day, then pushed themselves to take classes at night hoping it would make their lives better.

Agree with Homer - give it a go. It could provide enough satisfaction that it will help get you through the day.

Mon 19th February 2018 @ 13:01 Reply to this comment
Comment from: looby [Visitor]

That’s partly what makes it difficult – they show up my own laziness. I won’t get satisfaction from extending my working day though.

Mon 19th February 2018 @ 13:09 Reply to this comment
Comment from: Furtheron [Visitor]

Really sorry that you’re feeling like this.

I’ve had periods of not liking and not wanting to go to work with some anxiety about it but never for it to be that crippling - well not post beginning of sobriety.

One thing I have learnt in that time is 99.99% of the time it never actually is as bad as I fear it will be.

Mon 19th February 2018 @ 15:54 Reply to this comment
Comment from: looby [Visitor]

Thanks furtheron. I do have a debilitating sense of anxiety in the morning and through the day. I’m irritated with myself for having that. But the fact is, my class discipline is fairly non-existent, so it’s all drifting out of my control. I hate the way that they are so insolent and have no respect for me at all, and they use their greatest weapon all the time – me not understanding what they are saying – to hilarious effect.

Mon 19th February 2018 @ 16:07 Reply to this comment


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looby, n.; pl. loobies. A lout; an awkward, stupid, clownish person


M / 60 / Bristol, "the most beautiful, interesting and distinguished city in England" -- John Betjeman [1961, source eludes me].

"Looby is a left-wing intellectual who is obsessed with a) women's clothes and b) tits." -- Joy of Bex.

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There are plenty of bastards who drink moderately. Of course, I don't consider them to be people. They are not our comrades.
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Tell me, why is it that even when we are enjoying music, for instance, or a beautiful evening, or a conversation in agreeable company, it all seems no more than a hint of some infinite felicity existing apart somewhere, rather than actual happiness – such, I mean, as we ourselves can really possess?
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