It's getting better, isn't it? I think so...so much so I can't even bear to look at the older stuff at the bottom! I worry at what shocking errors I will find...maybe it's better that way; signs of progression!
Sunday, November 25, 2007
...teachers pet v2 (in first person)
I don't like Mondays. I used to, of course, building up my career, progressing the path, achieving the goals, growing that 'fear' which made me the man I am. Headmaster supreme, Dictator in Chief, Master of St Agnes. It's all meaningless now, I lost my erstwhile wife, Maggie due to my own selfish needs. It's only now I'm beginning to mourn for her passing. OK, she died whilst being made love to by the gardener of our country home, which was the 'carrot' of St Agnes' to make me take post in the first place. Not the gardener, but the house. Heaven knows that he was the most forbidden fruit in the garden of all. Damn you, Bryan.
Losing Maggie, first to Bryan, then to life itself has been difficult and I did throw myself into my work evermore. I used it to my own benefit of course, any feeling I did have was manifested into almost brutality on a day to day basis. The staff feared me as it was, the children (as innocent as the word sounds, they were by far from being innocent) also gave me a wide berth, not just for my burgeoning weight gain since Maggie's passing. I could use that fear to appear even more untouchable, only my Secretary, Shirley knew what I was up to, she was just as much a part of the 'masterplan' as I. Maybe she has designs or a crush on me...she would crush me for sure. Anyway, I digress...
Today, for a change, I shall enjoy Monday. My new love shall dominate my day. Shirley will put pay to any waifs and strays that will pass my door. The only waifs and strays that will take my attention today will be the cats and kittens of the local cat sanctuary. Ever since Maggie's passing, she left a big hole in my life, I didn't realise how much of a gap she left, in our marriage I treated her like my staff — at a distance, to do as she was told (although she always ignored me when it came to my bedroom demands!) For the most part she silently portrayed to be the loving devoted wife. Second place to my career and "in her place." Little did I know that the final straw broke when she wanted a cat. I refused wholeheartedly, of course. I was a Dog man...but not any more.
Years of following my footsteps did for me. She wanted a cat, but screwed the gardener instead. Not quite the outcome I thought would occur, granted, but she voted with her feet and opening legs just the same. After she died, a cat wandered into the utility room, somewhat prophetically. From that day, cats have been my replacement for Maggie. I miss her, it's all my fault of course. The one thing she wanted I know provide to others. Being the chair of the Cat Sanctuary it is my sole aim to home these poor kittens and homeless cats. Having the cushy job of being the Head of St Agnes gives me more than enough time these days. The school practically runs itself via Shirley and my able but gullible deputies. It's a closed shop, being in such a remote location, privately funded, I don't go over budget, not even close. So I'm left to run newsletters and use up Colour Ink for my printer. It's the only expense I afford myself in school, everything else is budgeted, noted, double-checked, signed-off. I think I deserve it.
I know what you're thinking. I deserve my lot and I can only agree with you. I hold my hands up and say it's a fair cop. I may only have the sight of Shirley's aging suspenders to titilate me, but my life is the cats now. Maybe it is in Maggie's memory that I now am devoted to cats, i certainly wouldn't have entertained the thought in the time we were married. And yes, you're entitled to point the finger. Guilty as charged. It's too late to save myself, I have dug my own grave, I'm too old to change myself and my image inside the school but I have something to live for and it's given me more happiness than Maggie had with Bryan the Gardener. Maybe.