THE MISANTHROPIC PRINCIPAL

There was the one about the inflatable pupil at the inflatable school getting told off by the inflatable head teacher who had a pin in her hand.

- It's not just me you've let down, you've let the whole school down, but most of all you've..., she was saying.

Then attention waned. The push bar to open door was ajar and liberated consciousness fire escaped. There had to be more to life than this. Was it an absence of empathy? A lack of dynamism? A passing aberration? Or a deep-rooted need to ask rhetorical questions? Who knows?

She had let herself down. That much was clear. Recycling old jokes, regurgitating worn-out lesson plans, anything to get through the day. She wanted to grab herself by the shoulders and shake the living daylights out of herself, but... The economic consequences would be, well, there would be. Regrets too. Not to mention the ethics, which of course you don't. It was a transition period. She was peri-menopausal. It was constant inconstancy. Was that even a word?

There were milestones. Ten years of marriage. Or rather 10 years of being married. At least three of those had been in separation. Ten years in the classroom. Ten more years as head. Twenty years of hearing the same excuses, the same responses, the same sameness. She was so stuck in her rut the rut had laid down foundations like a.. whatever. Clichéd metaphor was also part of her rut. She needed change. But change meant trouble. And trouble led to anger and frustration. And frustration and anger concealed fear and anxiety. And anxiety led to panic. And panic led to...

For now. She would stop them. The one student who had irked her had been irking her for months. He still resisted her strategies. She couldn't subject the rest of the school to punishment on his account. Inhale and grit teeth. Re-focus. Lift back shoulders and force out a half-smile of partial contempt and plough on. She'd already tried all other options. Love. Stress. Mental collapse. Meditation. Mediation. Counselling. Religion. Cynicism. Only resignation was left. Psychological not professional. Resignation and 55 minutes left. Another old joke?

There was the one about the middle-aged principal and the nervous breakdown...