Major crisis today - major, major crisis.
There were no biscuits in the English Department barrel.
It was the prologue to a catalogue of disasters:
Someone had stolen the wall stapler.
The milk had gone off and there was only powdered granules left.
35 copies of The Canterbury Tales had gone missing.
The cups were dirty and no-one had cleaned up from the day before.
People were convinced there was a cartel hogging the lovely new orange textbooks.
All the teatowels were damp and smelly.
I'm sure all those events have some sort of symbiotic dependancy.
Talking to sugar-deprived colleagues at the start and end of lessons, you begin to notice how many staff simply need you to acknowledge that they've had a really really hard day.
Perhaps what we all need, here at the jagged chalkface, is a teacher of our own. Someone to say 'well done', 'never mind', and to give us a tacky back star once in a while.