Half Term Holidays are officially over.

This is a good thing. I’ve just dropped the youngest off at school, where Teaching staff have fixed their smiles, and are silently muttering “only 6 more weeks” under their breath. My daughter’s still at the age where she loves school, and really looks forward to going and seeing her friends. She thrills at the chance to learn new stuff, and take part in everything. That’ll be drained out of her in time, but for now, its great!

My younger son, however,  has to be Harangued out of the door though, and spends the morning grunting at us. I’m guessing its grunts of happiness and joy, but I could be wrong there.

Thinking back to my school life, I hated primary school. Back then, if you were being bullied (and I was) you needed to toughen up. Stand up to the bullies, and they’ll leave you alone. I tried this a few times, it just increased the number of kids that got involved.

So for Primary school, I dreaded every day of it. My secondary school was a long way from home, and this meant that there was zero chance of me being at school with any of the former bullies. It also meant very little chance for me to form friendships that lasted outside of school, as the closest person to where I lived lived 4 miles away. Whilst I made the trip to his house a few times, his idea of fun stuff to do didn’t always mesh with mine, but that was ok.

I’d travel in to school every day by train. It was a half an hour journey in, plus about a ten minute walk at each end. The school itself wouldn’t have won any OFSTED awards, unless they gave out awards for ‘meh-ness’. I’ve vague recollections of writing about what a mess they made of schooling for the five years I was there, so I’ll not recount that period again. Socially though, I quite enjoyed it. There was an underlying fear that half the kids at my school had access to knives, and were on the lookout for a fight. However I’m pretty sure every kid thinks this about their school. A few years of primary school bullying made me a fast runner, and pretty athletic all round, so I excelled in whichever sport we were doing at the time, though I wasn’t the best at throwing or the most accurate at kicking a ball.

I played on the school rugby team for a few years, and swam, rowed, and sailed whenever able. These were all activities I really enjoyed, and its weird to think I don’t do any of them any more. I lived by the sea for 8 years, and didn’t once try to find out how to get back into sailing. I guess it takes hindsight to point these things out.

Tomorrow is my birthday, and normally I’m excited for it. Sometimes I make a show of not being excited, whilst inside the 5 year old me is yelling about jelly and ice cream. Today though, I’m not really excited. I don’t know why, I don’t have anything planned for it. Cal asked what I’d wanted to do, and I really can’t think of anything that interests me at all. I think the mist and gloom of the November mornings might be creeping in, and I need something to either shake me out of it, or shine a bright beam of cheerfulness in.

I wonder if you can buy bright beams of cheerfulness on Amazon?

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