So much newness. The students at school haven’t exactly embraced me with open arms, yet they also haven’t submitted me to the kind of torture I had witnessed new teachers endure in my own school days, and I’m grateful of that. As I exit the building after a long day of teaching, I’m accosted by Tim and made promise to come for drinks at Montgomery’s that evening. Socialising, I remind myself, is what normal people do. It’s supposed to be easy and fun. It’s not supposed to coat my body in clammy sweat and bring on severe anxiety, and so I’m determined not to feel what the ridiculous chemicals in my body want me to feel. My evening sinks further downhill from there. When I arrive home I find my front garden populated with the furniture I had been waiting on being delivered. Jesus. Christ. The idiots have just dumped it here and left. How the hell am I going to get everything into the cottage? I will never be able to lift the piano, even if I can just barely manage everything else.
