Bzzz bzzz bzzz. I’m sorely, sorely tempted to bash that snooze button again. But this time it’s the phone, and one of my teaching agency consultants. She’s reeling off a jumbled list of instructions and information that it’s far too early for and which is consequently only sort of half going into my brain all about locations, times and subjects – as I semi-consciously and semi-nakedly put the kettle on, ‘yeah’-ing and grunting and ‘fine’-ing. Morning, world.

And then comes a call from another agency. Sorry Mike, you’ve been pipped to it. I’m booked up. Even though I’m pretty sure your agency pays more. Damnit. Come to think of it, I’m not 100% on my rate for today…

No time! The school’s at least 45 minutes away with two train changes and a fifteen minute walk that I suspect may have to be a run. Turns out first the tube line I need to take is experiencing severe delays this morning. Super. Lucky they’ve got Wi-Fi down on the platform now, so I can message my consultant that I’ll be ‘a shade late, so so sorry, trains <emoji sorry face> DON’T CANCEL ME’. Wi-Fi doesn’t help being squished into the armpit of a city boy though.

So, I’ll be taking names and moulding minds with year 4 for the day. First up it’s Maths and Science (Going. To. Avoid. Embarrassment.), followed by a break (more coffee), then a little bit of Geography (holiday brainstorm) and Art (end on a high). Straight after lunch I’m doing… P.E. Nice scheduling. Let’s do this.

I’m out of the tube and onto the street. Heaving city boy musk, but alive and awake. Obviously the map the consultant has sent me is in Bing (like, what?) and I’m out of data. Phone directions from the reception desk at school it is: ‘Right out of the station; 2nd left; then past the gym, over the road and round the bend. You’ll see us.’

And there they are. My charges until 3pm.


Ok I made it through the day. Thanks, thanks. Home time. Going to pick up some food for dins, some vino (earned) and maybe get back on that day rate thing… seems important to know. Just want to make sure these agencies aren’t gobbling their way through my pay. I mean they didn’t spend lunch scraping glue off tables.

Maybe I’ll ring Mike back and see if he’s got anything for tomorrow. Urgh, paperwork. Why do I have to check up on the agency? Urgh. What am I even going to say to them if they are taking half my pay? Also, I hate the phone. Dial tone…