Friday 5th July
This week has flown by but that is probably because there is always lots going on at this time of year with cricket, sports days and end of year productions. I often start to feel a bit overwhelmed during the summer term with all the things I have to remember but this year has been particularly overwhelming with the onset of the peri-menopausal hormonal rollercoaster. It all came to a head on Friday morning (I’m beginning to think maybe Friday’s aren’t a good day for me emotionally and perhaps I should just write Fridays off and stay in bed all day). During the morning I bumped into the lovely Mrs K from the main office who started to talk to me about some very important tasks I had to carry out, during what would be the last week of the school term. It was at this moment it started to dawn on me that the morning I would be carrying out said tasks was possibly the same morning as Youngest Child’s leavers assembly at the Junior School. Already feeling emotional and hormonal, I rushed down the corridor to find Gorgeous to confirm what date the leavers assembly was. Yes, just as I thought there was a clash.
I then went from room to room confirming with all my colleagues that the very important work task would be on the exact same date as the leaver’s assembly.
By the time I got to Mrs H it was pretty clear that I wasn’t going to be able to attend my last child’s primary school leavers concert and I burst into big racking sobs. Mrs H gave me a hug and reassured me that there must be something that could be done. I went to find Gorgeous and Mrs B, by which time I was inconsolable. Gorgeous said I must go and find a member of the leadership team and tell them that Youngest Child’s leaver concert was non-negotiable. Off I went dabbing at my eyes with a tissue and getting puzzled looks from colleagues. As I walked past the Bosses office, I noticed she was in there, busy at her desk. I barged in while wailing, “I just need to cry somewhere!” She waved me in saying, “you carry on but what has happened?” I collapsed onto a chair and spent five minutes with my head in my hands completely sobbing. The Boss looked alarmed until I managed to get out, in between sobs, that I was fine and it was nothing too major (as in a death or some other tragic event), with a look of relief she left me to it and carried on tapping on her computer. When I finally managed to calm down and tell her that I wasn’t able to go to Youngest Child’s leavers assembly because I would be carrying out a very important work task, she very firmly told me that I have to go to the leavers assembly and that she had nothing in the diary for that morning so she would carry out the very important task in my place. She was so calm and insistent that it wasn’t a big deal and that Youngest Child’s event must come first that I began to feel slightly foolish for getting myself in such a state. I explained that I was very hormonal at the moment and thinking that I would miss Youngest Child’s last ever event at a school that I had sent three children to over the last twelve years, had made me very emotional so it all became too much. She then spent five minutes telling me about all the things she got upset about as a parent, such as sending her youngest child into school in his uniform on an own clothes day and having to juggle important Boss duties in order to attend her children’s school events. By the time I left her office I was feeling much better, although emotionally drained, and very grateful that I have such a lovely and understanding boss.
After such an emotional morning it was a welcome relief that it was ladies night and Mrs T, Mrs B, Gorgeous and myself were off out again up to London for a few cocktails and a nice dinner. Our dinner, unfortunately wasn’t going to be until 10pm because we were eating in the surf shacks that were situated along the Thames and the online queue to book one had been for forty-five minutes and by the time we were at the front of the queue, there was only the 10pm slot left.
Not a problem though as we went for drinks to a pub next to The Monument (erected at the end of Pudding Lane to mark where The Great Fire of London started).
We were able to stand outside to drink, which was quite nice as inside the pub felt like The Great Fire of London was still raging, however we were less than impressed when a young girl near to us started to throw up all over the floor, down her arms and into her handbag. Mrs T told one of the two men who were with her to get her bag out of the way and I began to berate them for laughing at her. Gorgeous then rounded on them and said they had better make sure they got her home safe, to which they replied that they weren’t with her but she came in from Watford once a month to work at their office. “Well how is she going to get home then?” we wanted to know. We were aghast when the men said they were going to put her in a taxi and send her on her way to Watford. “You can’t do that!” I exclaimed, “but it’s what we always do,” they whined. The young lady had perked up a bit by this point and decided that we were her new best friends, which she demonstrated by draping her arms all over us, kissing our cheeks and telling us how beautiful we were. Mrs T, who had not forgotten the vomit that had dripped down the young lady’s arms, disappeared very quickly inside the pub, followed shortly afterwards by Gorgeous. After a good fifteen minutes of her trying to get Mrs B and I to party with her, she too decided to go inside the pub along with one of her work colleagues. The other one had clearly become fed up with both her actions and us berating him about getting her home safely and so had left when no one was looking. Within minutes a guy standing next to us cried out “what the fuck?” and went running into the pub. We then heard an almighty crash and upon putting our head around the door, we saw that the young lady had fallen onto the floor pulling her colleague and a very large table on top of her, with the guy who had gone running in, trying to get the table off them and pull them up off the floor and out of the pool of alcohol and shattered glass that was everywhere.
Despite being very drunk they were suitably embarrassed and decided to leave but had not gone very far before Gorgeous saw them standing in the street with their tongues down each other’s throats. Did he not remember she had just been sick everywhere? Yuk!