Although, I'm not superstitious or a member of some weird religious cult there is something about a rare weather or astronomical event that causes me to wonder if "this is it?" It probably didn't help that I had spent the week reflecting on the fragility of our life, as we currently know it and that I am completely knackered.
A week ago, I attempted to break my Dad out of a stroke ward, because he was perfectly fine (and possibly the luckiest man on the planet) and as I walked along the ward I was struck by how suddenly and majorly the other patients' lives had changed: one moment they were walking the dog, talking to their family, having dinner, laughing or reading the newspaper and the next they would never be able to walk,talk, eat, smile or read again. As I helped the confused lady in the pink nightie find the toilet (much to the embarrassment of a nurse when it was clear she wasn't my relative), I couldn't help imagining her life. It's perfectly normal to do that, right? You meet a stranger and before you know it they have a name, a family, hobbies, a job, pets, the whole works but all of these things are in your head; you would never actually talk to Marjorie and ask her about her life, or her real name. Everyone does that, don't they? Anyway, there I was guiding Marjorie towards the toilet, whilst thinking about the matinee jacket she was knitting, in pink wool, for her new granddaughter, how sad it was that it would never be finished and I wondered if she would have even bothered to start the jacket if she knew what would happen to her.
A colleague fell down the stairs this week and broke a bone in her foot and that has made me reflect on how easy it is to have a silly accident that stops you doing what you had planned. I fell down the stairs this week too but I was lucky and only bruised my bum and fractured a glass. As I was bumping down the stairs all the things that I had to do next week flashed through my mind. I couldn't land awkwardly and be unable to drive. I would be mortified if anyone else had to do my job next week and saw the state I'd left my desk in. I wondered if my colleague had thought the same, although I doubt it because she is Ms Super-organised-superwoman.
When I finally got home the boys were watching a Zombie film. It had been a very long day, which included leaning absent-mindedly on the tombola enjoying the gentle swaying motion, while selling raffle tickets at the school fete, "You looked like you were only a short step away from rocking quietly in the corner," observed a colleague.
"We've decided that we'd be hopeless in the face of a Zombie Apocalypse," said the Long Suffering Husband, "We'd just have to give up and die." It would be a situation where you could predict the probable end of your life as you knew it. "What about you?" they asked.
As a teacher, I know a little bit about how I behave at the end of things. At the end of term, some teachers relax a bit but I am one of those who go a little manic. I squeeze in extra lessons, exams, courses, shows, church services, quizzes, games and things that show me what the children know without them guessing that I'm testing them. I'd like to think that if a Zombie were to knock on my door I would maintain my humanity and give up like my son and LSH but I know that I would be there, bashing heads in, shouting, "Oh, no you don't, I've got things to do!"
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