in_stead: (maple leaf rag)

Am off to Heathrow and, thereafter, Canada! Someone call Tim Horton's and tell them to stock up!

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

in_stead: (coffee)
It is like an early warning system. Every time I am planning a visit back to Canada, it goes off. Two or three weeks before I go, like clockwork, like an alarm-clock's clockwork, like other things that happen regularly and make a loud noise...

...I WANT TIMMIES. And timbits.

Mmmm, timbits. Tasty little doughnut holes.
in_stead: (coffee)
Just had a relatively severe coffee mishap. With a careless sweep of my elbow, I knocked my coffee cup (which was full) off the edge of the counter and into my open bag sitting below.

Upside: I did not smash the BF's lovely coffee cup.

Downside: I spilled coffee over everything in my bag, including my heretofore pristine, red leather bound copy of my Master's thesis, which I had in my bag due to my going up to Cambridge yesterday to do a little more research on Stead.

It's not too bad, just a little bit of splashing around the edges of the pages at the binding. Some of the other stuff in the bag took the worst of it -- see: my now swollen-paged, coffee-coloured, coffee-smelling new H.P. Lovecraft book that I hadn't even started reading but bought new a couple of days ago.

However, the splashes on the thesis is what really upset me.

Betrayed by coffee -- how can I ever trust again?!
in_stead: (start your day the holy way!)
Today is...not going to go well. No, that's not true. Parts of it are going to be just lovely. However, my first period class and my last period class are both going to be deeply unpleasant. This makes it very difficult to motivate myself to get out of bed for.

*snuggles in and looks mutinous*

Now would be a very good time to have someone bring me coffee in bed. I tell you.
in_stead: (coffee)
Every morning at 5:50am, someone gets into the car parked beneath my window, starts it up, and drives away. And every single morning at 5:50 am, this wakes me up.

Sometimes I can get back to sleep. Usually I can't.

Today I don't mind so much, however, as when I woke up the sky was already light and the air coming in through my open windows is a lovely crisp temperature that promises to warm up nicely as the day progresses. It is supposed to be sunny and gorgeous today and although I am sad that I will be spending the day trapped inside a small box with tiny raving lunatics, I do believe the promise of continued sun this afternoon when I finally get out will carry me through.

I am bound and determined to make it out of the school before 4:00. That is still a full hour after the children leave and I refuse to feel like I'm leaving early just because I am leaving earlier than I usually do. Besides, this will make up for not making it out until 8:00 last night.

In the meantime...COFFEE.
in_stead: (OH coffee)
Morning two and the hot spot at the head of my bed remains distinctly warm.

You know what this means...

MOANING ABOUT HOW POORLY I SLEPT AND RAPTURES OVER COFFEE ARE BACK!

I did sleep very badly. I remember the following times occurring: 12:06, 2:44, and 4:17. On the last I got up to go to the bathroom. Now it is 6:43 and I must wrench myself from bed to go get showered and dressed and things.

Also, there is coffee, but it is in dry ground form in a tin in the kitchen. I swear, the only reason I get out of bed. People have suggested to me that I get a small coffee pot to keep in my room, but I would never get out of bed then!
in_stead: (brolly)
So my mother comes into the kitchen this morning while I'm sitting and drinking coffee and says to me, "Do you consider yourself a lucky person?"

She didn't wait for a reply before dragging me upstairs to watch the news, which is reporting how all flights out of Heathrow yesterday, today, tomorrow, and possibly until Christmas have been delayed due to thick fog. I was actually originally scheduled to be flying out of Heathrow today, but switched my ticket to come home earlier once I realised that my school is the only one in the area that finished on Friday of last week rather than Tuesday of this week.

I tell you, I would have been SOME DEPRESSED had I found myself fogged in to London over Christmas!

I spent the day yesterday shamelessly lounging. I didn't do any work -- I barely got out of bed! Today I'm doing a bit more running around. I'm going to the gym, meeting people for lunch, doing some shopping, and watching my dad curl tonight. Fun!
in_stead: (coffee)
Do you know what I don't have in England that I really miss?

A mom who makes coffee for me in the morning.

::heart::
in_stead: (whee!)
HI CANADA! I'M HOME!

Well, in Toronto, at least. My mother conveniently has meetings here today and so was able to come pick me up from my plane, which landed at 12:30 last night. I didn't clear customs and get out with my luggage until 1:40 (the customs guy got pissy when he saw my work visa in my passport -- "Yes, fine, you're Canadian, whatever, but where do you spend the most time in an average year?" "Um. Canada. Because I've only been in England for four months. As you can see, both from what I very truthfully filled out on my customs card and by the stamps in my passport.") and then couldn't sleep for ages, because my body thought it was morning when we got back to the hotel. I am so very, very jetlagged.

And the Delta Chelsea has internets. The stores don't open for another hour or so, so I am trying to catch up on about three months worth of flist (good lord, you people are so verbose! cut it out! or at least point out the highlights in a sort of coles notes of lj.).

I love internets.

Much to say. Much, much, MUCH to say. Much has happened since the sort-of-some-times-hot spot in the kitchen went decidedly cold. But it will have to wait. Short form: I like teaching. Except when I don't. And I work with really fantastically awesome people at a really fantastically awesome school that I really seriously love.

And now, Christmas.

Yays!

So, plan for today: TIM HORTONS. And a little bit of putting the final touches on Christmas shopping. And TIM HORTONS. And some TIM HORTONS. And some more TIM HORTONS. Then we drive back to North Bay this evening.

*pines for that brown paper cup of caffeinated goodness*


(eta: omg! it just occurred to me that 'tis the season for holiday icons again! *uploads a mess of santas*)
in_stead: (OH coffee)
Mental note: I HATE YOUTH HOSTELS.

Particularly the bits where drunken people stagger in to the dorm room at midnight, crash about, make a lot of noise, turn on lights, and wake me up from a dead sleep. Then, at 6:00am, when I have to get up, I am too nice and polite to return the favour and so struggle along in the dark so as not to wake those same people up at the other end of the clock.

To add insult to injury, I stubbed my toe trying to get dressed in the dark this morning.

On the other hand, have had COFFEE and am once again sitting with a big pile of letters to Stead in front of me.

\o/

I am spending today and half of tomorrow here, then hopping a train back to London so I can go in to the school and start getting set up for Monday.


eta: This archive is the coldest place I have ever been. I am going to have to buy some survival gear -- heavy-weight sleeping bags and Inuit boots and things -- if I intend to make it through two days here.
in_stead: (coffee)
I would like to hereby quit my ovaries. And my lower back. And my shoulders and my right hip and my left knee.

My body is in revolt and I will not stand for it.

Clearly, the only solution for times like these is to take my coffee and go back to bed.
in_stead: (coffee)
Nng omg. Two and a half hours of sleep before the dogs woke me up to be let out.

*face mashes the coffee*

Driving my sister to a job interview at the Gap, then a doctor's appointment to finally find out what is wrong with my back (gee, whiz, it's about time), then Pirates II.

Which, you know, I'll be lucky if I don't fall asleep during, swashbuckle or no.
in_stead: (coffee)
There are teenagers all over my house. My sister had a camp out last night and invited ten or twelve of her closest friends. They are now camped out in my living room watching movies. And they drank all the coffee.

My only consolation at this point is the thought of all the horrible punishments I will inflict on them come tomorrow, when I am doing my last practice teaching placement in their classes at their high school.

*plots and plots and plots*


...oh god, please make them leeeeeeeeeeeave.
in_stead: (coffee)
There is no coffee?
in_stead: (rain on the thames)
Hi, morning, hi!

I am pretty today.

I am also quite caffinated.
in_stead: (coffee)
I dreamed I was stressed out and working on schoolwork.

I feel so cheated. Even my subconscious is against my having a break.

To do today:
    - shower (now)
    - finish assignment that is due this afternoon
    - finish assignment due tomorrow
    - ride home from school no matter what seemingly semi-catastrophic circumstances arise over the course of the day, damn it
    - apply for a UK work visa (BIG STARS SUPER IMPORTANT NO REALLY DO IT TODAY OR ELSE)
    - watch TV before bed so as to not have a repeat of last night's suxor dreams


(oh, coffee, hi, coffee, i love you, yes i do)
in_stead: (coffee)
Gaaaaahhhhdkkkkkkidow;alkkvmasdiweowe. LK;slaafdiow/d? Jk;jfdaaaiiow! Sskdfijwpeap;kdsdl!

(translation: Could not get to sleep until 2-ish in the morning. Why me? I hate morning! Must have coffee!)
in_stead: (read more)
It is a vaguely alienating experience to be facing a day of classes in which I will be doing no teaching what so ever. I tell you, I'm going to get lost on my way to my seat at the back of the room. The professor is going to come in and find me loitering at the front of the room looking disoriented.

"Back there," he'll say. "There's a nice empty seat right near the door. Remember -- student now, not teacher. Please adjust accordingly."

My father suggests that finishing one degree on Friday (technically Thursday, but I refused to leave and no one came to kick me out of the school, so that was that) and starting classes on the next set of qualifications on Monday may be a sign of some sort of mental illness. At the very least, he feels, it must be a sign of an unhealthy addiction to the education experience.

Being home is nice, but I already miss my kids and Ottawa and [livejournal.com profile] mcee. Also, last night I dropped a closet door on my guitar and cracked the top, which makes me very, very, very unhappy. I do not know if it can be fixed, but I'm hoping.

On a brighter note -- my Mom brought me coffee in bed to wake me up. And Mr. Tim isn't even ignoring me in a snit the way he usually does after long abscences. When I walked through the door last night, he came right over and cuddled my ankles until I picked him up.

Right. Shower now.


[livejournal.com profile] ink_stain! The package arrived right before I left Ottawa -- omg THANK YOU! I love it all. I am taking my new travel mug (the blue one, because blue is my favourite colour) to school today. It is appropriately summery as compared to my equally lovely travel mug that [livejournal.com profile] mcee gave me for Christmas, which is a much darker and distinctly wintery blue-brushed metal. You are the rockingnest! :D
in_stead: (bike)
A post-script to this morning's post:


  1. I am pathetically, pathetically out of shape.

  2. Cycling is still the funnest thing that ever was. OMG HI BIKE HI!



I will be spending the day frantically marking my grade six class' two major poetry assignments so that I can get them back to my associate teacher before I head back to North Bay tomorrow. I hate marking. I love reading what the kids wrote, don't get me wrong. It's that I then have to assign a value to it that causes me discomfort.

I need coffee. I need it right now omg.
in_stead: (coffee)
So. The thing I bought at Starbucks yesterday afternoon was not so much the decaf they promised me (and, again, upon double checking, as I know what caffiene does to me so late in the day) it was.

And there was a point, somewhere around 2:00am, where I seriously contemplated taking up the occult just in order to get the phone number of the Starbucks employee who told me such filthy lies. I would have called them up and, in a very calm voice, explained to them that I have twenty-five eleven year olds waiting for me in a room today and I have to teach them poetry and gym and fractions and things and I needed my sleep, which was not so much something I got.

I am also very sick.

I would prefer death, but it looks like I will be going to work instead.

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