So Monday early, I’m on my way to work about eightish! It a lovely spring day, dry, sunny and a bit crisp. As I leave my road I spot a kid about 13yr judging by his hight, huddled by the doctor’s practice on the corner waiting for the school bus. He got a copy book in his hand and he’s obviously doing his homework.

It got me thinking that, that was me from an early age! The lies I told my mum about homework done to squeeze as much out of a weekend as possible! The excuses I gave teachers and the hidings I got as a result, were all worth it!

It seems that this is a trait I have carried with me all the way through my academic career! I’ve cleaned the entire house rather that sit down to write an essay or revise for an exam!

Finally as a teacher, I find excuses to put off till the last possible moment marking papers in a vain attempt to delay the inevitable! I hate homework mine and everyone else’s!

Hospital Cafe!

The blue screen on the wall reads 9:27 ticket no 057 room 1
Patiently, or not so, we wait,
timely ordered and numbered.

Child in pushchair sleeps, as soporifically, it’s young mother ebbs to and fro as she drones an unfolding drama on her phone.

An emaciated man in a monkey hat with a sparse set of teeth sips sweet tea through a vast expanse of decay.

A teenager hammers the luoczade machine while a Friend of Medway cleans tables oblivious. New glasses needed I think for bifocal “Mail Man” straining to read the fine print.

Surrounded by anxious faces while others bury themselves in magazines or smart phones, offsetting, waiting for the call!

The tannoy voice echoes “Can ticket number 61 go to…”
Thankfully, I’m not in the que I’m just killing time enjoying my coffee!