Apologies for the failure to update the blog this last week. Term started, an avalanche of marking hit my desk, and I was spending a lot of energy getting back into the four-hours-a-day commute from East Chesville to Uni-ton. It's amazing the circumstances that human nature can adapt to, and the London Underground is no exception. I am now slowly learning to fall into deep reading mode, standing on one leg and leaning my book on sombody's ruck sack, while someone else hangs onto my pocket, the whole carriage sways to and fro, and half the passengers disembark to allow someone in the middle to descend at Green Park. I hasten to add that this only happens during the rush hour!
Meanwhile, I cannot help feeling that whizzing rush of excitement that comes over one in the last few days of January before payday arrives! The last couple of months with marriage, honeymoon and Christmas have been financially taxing (no pun intended). But it is also exciting of course to be back at the chalkface, as I observed last week.
What's more, if the weather hasn't been so great, I have at least been able to warm myself up by laughing at the annual crop of student essay howlers (this month's leading contender being, 'The idea of national identity exited de Gaulle'. But, we can wonder, through which aperture?).
So, the end-of-January factor is definitely high (or definately high, as some of my undergraduates might say). Excuse me for being cheery, but I just cannot help it. I'm half Wilkins Micawber and half Albert Doolittle.
[Ches retires, singing:
'I'm getting money in the mornin',
Ding dong, the cash register will chime,
January payday is my winter May Day,
So get me to the bank on time!'
and performs the Old Kent Road jig].