When I was in my late thirties I resumed my education. For a year I attended the local FE College to take A levels in English and Sociology. There was only one other student who wasn’t a teenager and as I was a fellow oldie she latched on to me like a cleg. She was 20.
At first I found the whole process very difficult. My first attempts at essays were dire, simply because they were all over the place. One of the lecturers gave me this piece of advice, which I intend to apply to the remainder of this post. Then I invite comments on how shite the advice was – or not.
The advice was this
Tell them what you are going to tell them.
Tell them it.
Tell them what you have told them.
So here goes –
I am going to tell .you about a weird dream I had last night.
I didn’t realise quite how anxious I was about returning to work today until the dreaming started. There were several dreams which were all work related but this one was the weirdest. I was out on the razz with three work colleagues and we were having a hell of a night. My only difficulty was keeping up with them and worrying about what crazy situations they were going to drag me into. I managed to slip into the ladies at one point to chill but whilst there I gave birth to an infant. My main concern was that my colleagues would think I was a party pooper for having done this and I was wondering how I could keep it from them. It was obvious that it was not going to be easy as the infant was a cross between a large foetus and a monkey and was very active. In fact it kept climbing up the curtains, perching there and glaring malevolently at me. I realised that I did not like it very much then immediately felt guilty about this, as after all I had given birth to it. So I decided to knit it a cardigan in an effort to bond with it. But it kept coming down off the curtains and unravelling my knitting. The third time it did this I strangled it with a piece of yarn.
That was the best dream I have had in ages and I know I will remember it forever.