The things we do for love


I’ve just been offered some extra work, 3 hours a week. Lucky me! But it’s doing something I don’t want to do – language teaching to kids. That’s the way of it in the topsy-turvy land of Judith World at the moment, apply for something you don’t want. I’m not even a teacher, I’m a scientist, but I am bilingual and it’s a matter of needs must if you’ve got transferable skills and the recession bites. If being able to say “Shut up or I’ll chuck a board duster at you” or “Put that knife away” counts as a skill. I have a feeling you’re not allowed to do the former (not like it was in my day) and being able to run is probably better in the case of the latter.

Oh dear, I don’t know whether to accept, I worked for the same bunch about 8 years ago and it felt like I was going into battle every week. But the few quid I’d end up with might keep the wolf and the HSBC a few inches further from the door.

Maybe, instead, I can get a medical journal to pay me for publishing a paper I could write, called “Scoliosis surgery makes teenagers ask you for money all summer long”. Maybe not, it’s based on a sample size of 1. And didn’t that happen last year anyway? Drat.

Typical me, I have told them I’ll get back to them. I need to see what himself thinks, as he will have to hold the fort i.e. get out of bed when I’m out in the combat zone. I’ll probably toss a coin in the end. Even then I usually end up doing the best of three.

On the way back from the interview I put on the radio, and 10cc’s “The things we do for love” was playing. It could be the story of my life. Just change the title to “the things we do for dosh”…

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