Life in the Talent Lane

Don't be Drunk on this Staircase

Today Jof had to go to a nondescript office block in interesting town 'Reading' where she was taught how to do lots of boring back office tasks involving spreadsheets and columns of figures.

This was unfair for her as she had to get up really early to catch the slow train (change at Basingstoke, or was it Winchester), and it was unfair for me because Bud had to get me to school.

Thus I was awoken by the noise of 2 dustbin lids (ok, carpet slippers) being banged together and the full Sergeant Major Right then you Orrible lot get up get up there's only 2 types from Idaho which are you boy what time do you call this etc which I can tell you is not conducive to a happy morning experience.

I tried to get a PE sick-note for the damage on my hand (6 millimetre cut) but apparently it wasn't life-threatening enough. In PE I played football and actually did 3 keepy-uppies with overhead pass to myself and a shot on goal, and scored a goal in a separate incident in which the ball hit my leg and went in, even though I was looking the other way.

In IT we had to add an email signature and profile image so I simply typed in my own name + image search and came up with a million decent images from this blog and so my friends did the same and those that have featured therein filled their boots from my very own online resource.

Thursday is supposed to be my day off, but no longer. 'The Talent Lane' is the hour-long extra lesson for us high-achievers at the partially subterranean pool formerly used by the Scouts last week. We were slightly late but I soon wowed them with my straight-hand technique and arrow-straight dive and Herr Comrade Instruktor Boss Lady said I was good and I didn't win any of the races but I was up against silver hats, and I'm only little.

So I was quite tired but we had sausages and ice cream which helped me recover.