This morning I was ready to jump out of bed and rush to whatever school needed me.
As a home worker, my routine usually runs to sitting in bed drinking coffee until 9, (don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same!). But not this morning, oh no. this morning I would be the dynamic, assertive go-getting supply teacher that you don’t see in the movies [note to self: could be a new project in that?]
Sadly, the call did not come. Never mind. I was dressed, watered and ready to go. Thing was, the only place I had to go to was my spare room/office.
This was not good enough! Where was the dynamism? Where was the cold air on my face? Where was the struggle of humanity between the opposing forces of financial security on the one hand and the primeveal drive to stay in bed on a flippin cold morning like this?!?
Where was my commute?!?
My course of action was clear – I was going to have that commute whether it got me anywhere or not!
Togged up, I set off amongst the other commuters, winding their way towards the station. What bliss! What solidarity! We were here, we were cold, and we wished we were in bed! Again I felt as part of a group, part of the industrial work ethic, part of trekking through the bleeding frost to get to somewhere you’d rather not be!
But my enjoyment was short lived. After a street or two, I realised that, yes, actually, it is quite cold and that no, really, I did not have any idea what I was doing or where I was going.
My house lies equidistant between two train stations. I considered walking to one and catching the train to the other. This may legitimise my pointless wanderings, or so I thought.
Then the whole pathos of the thing struck me. What was i doing?!I was mocking these people, turning their daily run to the office into some sort of sadistic little smug-fest of my own.
Pausing at the corner, I turned to make my way home. I imagined my follow commuters glancing at me, jeering. “Home-worker” they would say. But it would be true.