Categories: uncategorized
Date: 29 June 2007 19:37:01
(In our house, this phrase replaces the offside rule. Spike has explained it patiently to me several times, but I still can just tell you 'it's something you don't normally have to do nowadays, with modern gearboxes' and my girly brain has filtered out the rest.)
Well, you know what joy filled Norwood Mansions last night. Spike is a proper Approved Driving Instructor, not a trainee one any more. No longer need we worry that he might have to give it all up again. No more test and training fees to pay :D.
Speaking personally (and yikes, what a materialist one becomes as one passes 30), this makes me happy because Spike will earn better money as an instructor than as a ratsmeller pursuivant, and because the company vehicle is a neat, new little car, not a white van with noxious substances in the back and mountains of paperwork and old copies of the Daily Mirror in the front.
But most of all, it makes me happy because Spike loves his job so much. He's been blessed by finding something that suits him so well, and the possibility of losing it (despite being able to actually get pupils to pass their tests and recommend him to their friends), due to not being able to perform the right role for an hour in an artificial setting, was scary. It occurred to me this afternoon, too, that while my job may not be perfect, the pay, the prospects and the enjoyment of the work itself are so much better than I would have predicted for myself a few years back.
So, last night, after a couple of pints and a curry, Spike finally stopped bouncing (really just as well). I'm not sure what he's been like today, but I'm aware there's been an element of residual grin about me. There's a wonderful feeling of a worry taken away. I was going to say what a great beginning to Gordon Brown's premiership, but Brits and international news-watchers will no doubt know that an explosive device was found in London early this morning, so I'll just say thank God it was found and made safe without anyone being injured.
But, returning to levity, I picked up the Metro on the tube this morning. For the uninitiated, this is a free daily paper distributed at rail and tube stations. I usually flick through to see what strange, or alternatively very enlightened and well-thought out opinions are printed on the letters page, and then just have time to read any couple of articles (they're never longer than half a page of text) that have grabbed my attention.
Reader, I am delighted to report that a) the animal rights campaign PETA have gone up in my estimation, as they apparently organise a yearly event to rival and protest about the controversial Running of the Bulls in Pamplona, Spain. So apparently, it's nearly time for Running of the Nudes.
As if that wasn't marvel enough, I am also assured that today has been National Wrong Trousers Day, sponsored by the Wallace and Gromit Foundation for children's charities. Excuse me while I squee ...