Thursday, April 10, 2008
Warning: Do not attempt to get out of bed
It started out all right, but I am easily fooled these days.
A food hygiene course doesn't exactly tickle my excitable bits but it could have been worse.
"Do we know where we are going?" my colleague asked.
I assured her that although we hadn't been sent a map I had (albeit vague) directions. Penzance is a small town, how difficult would it be to conceal a chapel? Very, apparently. Someone had moved the chapel and replaced it with a a housing estate.
I was calm. We weren't late and had time to ask a few people. The people we asked seemed reluctant to tell us (language was obviously a problem in a foreign town) or sent us off everywhere but there. We accosted some bin men (Umm, rubbish technicians, I meant) but they didn't know and neither did the police (worrying). To cut a really long 'now we're half an hour late' story short we rang home and after five phone calls we found the chapel hall, sneaked in commando style, got caught, apologised, won over the tutor with a winning smile and resigned ourselves to having missed coffee.
While trying to focus on what was being said and not thinking up a hundred hex's on everyone I knew, I realised that the table was juddering. The guy sat next to me was shaking. I looked around and saw that everyone in the room was wearing five layers of clothes (except shakey boy next to me). Within ten minutes frost bite had set in. I rarely dress appropriately for any occasion and today was no exception. The Victorian hall was at least -30 and it would be foolish to say that I am exquisitely happy when I am cold. I sulked all morning and only brightened a little when lunch was announced. Ooooh, I imagined hot soup, hot bread, hot, hot, hot, but it came disguised as a soggy sandwich and a piece of cake that required a pneumatic drill. Hygienic it may have been but they gave us about ten minutes to eat it and then I had to run two miles to feed the car park meter (again).
The afternoon lurched between feeling my toes and not. I learned about serving hot food at the right temperature but could barely keep my own above arctic conditions. With my brain in danger of freezing completely and the thought of a hefty fine if the meter was not fed I announced to the tutor that we had to go.
"You have to do your exam in order to pass the course" the smug bastard said.
I have probably failed, miserably. Getting killed by staphylococcus aureus (fuck, I learned something) was preferable to dying coldly in a foreign town.
The day was a disaster, I really shouldn't have got out of bed and I should be looking forward to staying in mine tomorrow. Unfortunately today was only Part 1 and tomorrow I have to do it all again!
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11 comments:
Poor Minx!
Bring a thermos of hot soup tomorrow.
They will surely have figured out the thermostat by then, and it will be so stifling, you'll have to strip 'neked'.
You'll make the picture as you trot back to feed the meter!
Isn't that art (as in your illustration) just phenomenal?
Ron Mueck
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ron_Mueck
Mueck's sculptures are breathtaking, Leslie. Take a peek at 'Big Man' and his mask sculptures.
http://hubpages.com/hub/Awesome_Sculptures_Of_Ron_Mueck
Sending warming unhygienic hugs to your poor frozen tootsies. xxx
Don't go back. Get a nice book and a nice cuppa. :-) (Although you'll probably read this on your return! lol)
Is that you sat in the chair?
What could be so important that the intertubes are not sufficient to convey the information that makes up any lesson rather than making the class suffer so?
Some times the Brits seem as stubbornly Luddite as the Irish.
Toes were a little warmer today, Debi. I am less grumpy.
Doing the book and cuppa tonight, Shameless. Ah, Friday night....
I wish it were, John G. I would love to see these up close and personal.
Ah, but G&G, where would I have got a whole blog post from and where would I have found all those ready made characters. How I suffer for my art!
Writers should never, ever have to suffer through continuing education no matter what. That sounded too awful.
Absolutely right, Kat. Adult education should be civilised - massage, cocktails, waiter on hand for every whim, etc.
I've been sleeping for months and thoroughly recommend it. Especially as the moment I wake up some sadistic bastard burnt my verruca off. Go back to bed and stay there is my advice.
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