I really did excel myself in my class this morning. I was dead on time to teach my deep stretching class at a VPC (Very Posh Club). Typically, for the first time I had ten people waiting for me (instead […]
I'm exhausted after my party weekend away.....all those 50 year olds pretending to be teenagers. It is not good. Great fun at the time, but we just don't recover our faculties very quickly these days and I look as if I have aged 10 years. Taught a class yesterday which went unusually wrong towards the end - ten minutes before the end when everyone was lying on the floor doing their breathing exercises there was an almighty rumble and a whole load of rubble fell out of the fireplace and into the room. A cloud of orange dust meant that breathing exercises became untenable. HARDLY RELAXING. I had to evacuate the room and suggest that everybody continued with their breathing in the main road. Slightly worryingly the class were delighted to be finishing early. "Saved by the soot" said one of my lovely longstanding clients..... I have been feeling anxious since coming back into the country. There is much to worry about. My daughter has her first GCSE on Friday and the increasing tension is tangible. I have financial worries, school worries AND now teenage son worries. He told me he was going on a coach along the East Coast of Vietnam and it would take 36 hours. I have just heard from another source that in fact they are going to be hiring motorbikes a la Jeremy Clarkson's trip and do it in WAY less time. It's so dangerous though. I feel sick.
I made a spectacularly good impression during my exercise class this morning at the posh club. Full. Of. Mirrors. Realised as I started teaching at the front of the class that my trousers were on back to front. Which is always a good look for the teacher. I'd put them on in the dark this morning so missed out on the finer detail. Nothing I could do but carry on as if this was the height of fashion and what everyone should be doing. I did turn the lights off though ... made it as dark as possible.
Yes, as my friend Expat Mum says I will have to blame it on being distracted because my son has gone off on his gap year now.
I checked to see whether we were "friends" on Facebook so that I would get his updates - yup. Saw a couple of jokes I liked from his friends.
Quite sweet really - one of them said "jury's out on this joke - only 50% of people seem to get it". Well let me assure you (unless of course it's just me) that when you get a bit older and a bit more cynical you'll get it straight away:-
and the other one I liked was this "Growing Old Disgracefully" one:-
Well that was an embarrassing class I've just taught. I was wearing a new hoody thingy over my vest top. Black. Halfway through the class when I'd got a bit hot and sweaty I took it off and carried on teaching. We were all facing the mirror and I was at the front. I raised my arms above my head to do a back stretch which everyone copied. To my dismay the black fluffy new bits of the fleece had all amassed into the crevice of each armpit. I looked like I had gorilla armpits. Big black hairy patches with a little bit of chest hair for good measure as well. Suddenly I had to completely change my routine to anything that allowed my arms to be by my sides whilst surreptitiously attempting when possible to scrape off the fluff. Which wouldn't come off. In the meantime I had several texts and phone calls from my teenage son that loudly vibrated in the corner. WHAT IS IT WITH TEENAGE BOYS THAT MEANS THAT THEY HAVE TO BE ANSWERED IMMEDIATELY?? If I don't respond, there is a reason. I'M WORKING. He now has some jobs so thinks the world is supposed to revolve around him. He's done well so far finding jobs here and there. He's got a bar job that pays £6.00 an hour which is only just above the minimum wage. Did an event at Madame Tussaud's the other evening and again, whilst the pay is crap was delighted because after a 10 hour shift he can make a reasonable amount. "So when are you going on your gap year?" said my youngest son whilst we were all eating together the other day. "Umm, I'm on it actually" he said. "What? You are actually on your gap year?? What actually now? Whilst you're eating baked beans on toast at home?" he asked incredulously. "I thought you were supposed to be on a desert island or something?". "Yeah. Well that comes later....when I've made some money". So today - all day, he is busy making money. Today he has a labouring job. Then he has an hour off before he does a 5 hour shift at the pub this evening. He's going to be knackered. Thus he was up with all of us for the first time in about two years at 7am which caused havoc with our one bathroom. My other two children were not amused. Then there was much discussion about what he should be wearing and ten minutes of me trying to untie the laces on a pair of shoes he needed. Whether he should take a packed lunch etc. I offered to cook him some eggs "NO I HAVEN'T GOT TIME" he shouted as he left the house with a piece of toast wedged between his teeth. 10 minutes later I got my first text saying "mum, I've forgotten a pair of gloves - can you drop some off after you've dropped the others at school?". God. Yes. OK. Find gloves. Leave 5 minutes earlier in order to do a detour to him. THEN fifteen minutes later came the second text "mum, can u drop my cigarettes off please?" "Are u joking?" I said. "No, the builder smokes and I've left them at home - pleeeease". Forget it. Stop smoking. He was meant to be going to university today. I had it in my diary. His friend has gone without him now and his mother texted me to say how sad he was that my son wasn't there with him and how bad she felt about leaving him there alone. I discussed it with my son. "Mum, he said" rolling his eyes, "he's absolutely fine. He's just sent me a text saying "beer £1.36 and the fittest people I have ever seen". All good then.
Quite funny in my class today which is meant to be the oasis of calm. What creatures of habit we are. We get so used to “our place” that when another person inadvertently sits their, it causes untold trauma. […]
