Not That Scary

Crouchy, bless him, doesn't score or seemingly get involved in anything useful. So I lead the league by a point with one to play.

Exams everywhere this week. Son had one yesterday as well. When you ask Son how an exam has gone we nearly always used to get the response ‘alright’ which meant he’d probably scrapped through at best. Last year we had the addition of the more descriptive ‘not good’, which we now know translates as that he’s almost certainly failed. Now, joy of joys, there is a third response on the table. ‘Good’, which seems to mean a pass and often a good one at that. Sociology yesterday got a ‘good’. Phew.

I run to work which goes ok but my legs are very tired now. I don’t know how I’m going to stagger around a squash court tonight.

After the semi-euphoria of yesterday, today’s English exam gets an ‘eurgh’ and the use of the ‘f’ word is quite prolific in our inboxes today. Such delicate Daughterly language. I think she's having a bad day. I hope her English essay isn’t peppered with them too.

It chucks it down as I get ready to leave work. Two of my colleagues are stood by the door waiting for the rain to stop so that they can go out for a post-work run. They’re stunned and a bit worried when they see me standing behind them in full kit. Honestly, I’m really not that scary. They needn’t worry; I’m not going to join them.

The rain stops and we depart, going our separate directions at the end of the road. Seconds later it starts to bucket down again. I drip dry on the Red Arrow, I need these shorts for squash in an hour.

My opponent texts me, he has no money, his partner is away and hasn’t left him any. You can see who holds the purse strings in that household. He'll be in trouble if he's spent all his pocket money on sweeties. So not only do I have to pay for squash but I have to buy him a drink too. Then L turns up at the pub and buys him another one. All for the privilege of getting beaten, although it’s pretty close tonight. I had him worried.

I daren’t drink too much because its Biology revision tonight and I don’t want any mess ups again like with the incident with ‘wrong equation’. Not that I’m any good at Biology, I didn’t even do O level Biology, I dropped it in the third year. L should be the one doing this, she has an A level in it, albeit what she calls a lowly grade E. Nothing wrong with E’s, it was only a year ago we were praying for E’s at A level.

We revise photosynthesis. I offer to play her the Frank Turner song but my joke falls flat.