|TWH displaying superhero powers|
So TWH has left the boring mundane matters of running an outstanding academy to the over-promoted lieutenants a number of whom are younger, less competent and experienced than me...not that I am pushing for a promotion mind. That said they are all overseen by TWH's eyes and ears - the fearsome office manageress known, by those longer in the tooth, somewhat unfairly as Hattie Jacques. A summons from Hattie is never welcome. No, I am happy (if as seems likely that I have to stay here) to work my passage to rise to exhalted ranks of the old git deadwood in their comfy cardigans or ill-fitting catalogue dresses, who seem quite serene in the micro-staffroom doing the crossword and contemplating their Saga holiday brochures over a nice cup of Ovaltine and a digestive.
...and it is the near dead among us who cannot believe the apathy of the youngsters regarding the raping of pensions by the ideogue sons of Thatcher with their inherited millions who will never need one. They cannot believe the lack of anger, fight or cojones in them. About 20 turned up for a joint union meeting at the school (there are about 100 staff) and only two others turned up at the district meeting. Unless I am mistaken, it seems the narrative of nonsense spread by Dave, Gideon and the press that it's all Labour's fault....and we are all in it together has been swallowed by those more likely to vote in talent shows and read gossip mags than be concerned about the massive fucking over (as they say in academe) that we are receiving. That's it - my apolitical, apathetic younger Facebooking, XFactor voting, celeb watching colleagues all of whom are in a Union and can't be bothered to vote for what's good for them. Ah well, how British...sorry how English.
You get what you deserve in the end I suppose.