Sunday, 3 February 2013

Fanny Broke me in the End

I am not happy at the moment.  Not happy at all.  There are two main reasons for this maddening malaise:

1. I hate my new job.  

I thought it was just a 'settling in' problem. Everyone told me it was. And that sounded logical:  I don't like change and find meeting new people a little overwhelming.  But, after 4 weeks I still hate it. HATE IT. It is an awful place. It has:
  • a ghastly Head and Deputy who love to bully and demean teachers, reduce them to tears and then cackle hysterically about it in leadership meetings.  
  • kids who have prosciuttio and fig focaccia for lunch, but who, in many ways, are less endearing than the SOHK Ritalin and Monster Munch addled skip-rats I used to teach.   
  • results WORSE than School of Hard Knocks, despite being in much 'nicer' area. Hundreds and thousands of pounds spent on i-pads and other fripperies, but no books.
  • a toxic smog of fear and distrust amongst everyone.  A school should be a really happy community.  I have never worked anywhere quite like this. 
I miss the School of Hard Knocks.  I miss it badly.  I even miss beetrooty buffoon, Pompous Pilate. I spent 5 years sweating and toiling underneath that oafish Yorkshireman for disappointing pay and zero benefits (excluding the constant promise of lice and threadworm), but I'd go back in a flash, if I could.  I really would. That is not an option though.

I am trying desperately to think of a graceful exit from the new place, but no matter how you look at it, to leave a job after such a short time looks terrible.  Plus, it's going to be such a bumpy ride with the Head and Deputy,  will I even get a decent reference?  I don't know what to do, dear readers.  I am fucked.

Of course, the money is better where I am now.  So, to try to raise my spirits I have set up a Pinterest account, to plan how I should spend it.  That is, after I have paid of 5 years worth of debt, of course.

2. Rochester has taken to wearing pink paisley shirts with ridiculous collars. 

Me:  It's all very 1970s.  It's all very The Good Life.

Him:  Who in the Good Life?  Tom or Jerry?

Me:  I was thinking more along the lines of Margo, actually

There is nothing happening with Rochester and me. Occasional textual intercourse.  Infrequent phone calls plagued with bad reception (interference from the shirts, I assume).  I began to suspect he was having an affair.  He denied it quite eloquently by text.  The Fanny Rat King appears to be just 'slowing down'.  He is settling in to the Parker Knoll easy chair of middle age.

"I am still the best I have ever been, flower.  I have all kinds of fanny coming my way.  CONSTANTLY. I just cannot be arsed. Been there.  I am serious.  I am tired.  It's all too complex. Fanny broke me in the end. FACT."


  1. Oh jeez. My sympathy re the new job. I'm inured to the golden handcuffs of pay and generic terms. But it doesn't stop my nostalgia for the underpaid child protection hellhole of stress I used to call 'my job'.
    It makes for good copy. There's consolation of sorts.
    I recognise the Fanny Rat King. Funny what we do to ourselves, eh? Torture by sexual 'attraction'. Illogical. But it makes for good copy too...
    He needs a good kicking from the school of hard knocks. Though his kind will always have a sympathetic ear to comfort him...

  2. He lies. You need a new job. FACT.

  3. Oh dear, oh dear, I'm so sorry your new job is making you miserable. Is there a board or some other group to whom the belittling head reports to or can be reported to? He sounds like a nightmare.

  4. Sorry to hear about your predicament, Miss U. Hope you don't end up staying in the wrong job out of sheer embarrassment. You sound like the kind of teacher there aren't enough of. If this school is not a good fit, I bet there's plenty that would be. Could you jump ship after the summer term, or something? If you're going to jump again, maybe sooner would be better than later? Take time out of teaching? Do something completely different for a bit?

    Anyway, what do I know. just wanted to remind you how talented you are.

  5. Oh, balls. Balls, I say! (I should have read your tweets; then I'd have already known how your new job, and etc., was going.) It's grim up North.

    The job may suck your soul, but it's a pay upgrade and a step to better things. It could be worse? You could be hawking windows.


  6. In my industry and with my personality, I know that I will not like a new job for at least 6 months; so I always try to reserve judgement until then. I imagine teaching / schools defy that rule. Chin up. xxx

  7. Botheration. IME, money just doesn't compensate at all for not liking a job and waking up every morning going to work in a sour atmosphere. Keep scouring the TES and make as early an exit as is decently possible (or indecently, if someone offers you a job).

  8. Oh bugger, bugger, Miss Underscore. You deserve better in life, although selfishly, I can't help thinking what wonderful stories adversity gives you. Please write a novel! But I also want you to have a happy time (never an ending) in real life. All the very very best to you, and more strength and grace to your arm!

  9. Dear Ms Underscore,

    stop wasting your time thinking about what life could be like if other things were different. He's a lying, cheating person, who would most likely only cheat on you should you ever be able to have a relationship in the open. Some time spent on thinking about what you would like really to achieve might be a good idea. It sounds as though you are in a rut, personally and financially, and that sounds lonely. I hope you can find some solutions to your problems, you sound a wonderful & caring person. Worth more than a man who serially cheats on his partner. You are worth more than that.