Just Another Day

8.00

Got up at 6.30 for the dawn prayer and then tried, largely unsuccessfully, to doze a bit more. Now up and trying to get a few essays marked before doing anything else - my way of hitting the ground running. I'm looking at some commentaries on a passage from Coetzee's Age of Iron. Most of the students are coping with the material but don't seem aware that a struggle or battle in this context might not refer to all out war. Sheltered lives?

9.00

Just broke off the marking to check the football results and make myself a Milo, the missus still being in the land of nod. I didn't even try to stay up last night to watch the game, but was fairly confident United would pick up three points, despite that irritating draw against Reading early in the season. And so it was to be, though Arsenal and Chelsea also got predictable victories. It looks like going to the wire this season. Bring it on, say I.

10.00

The football highlights will be on in a minute so I'm casting the marking to one side for a while. But it (the marking) will still be waiting for me when the fun is over.

11.00

Now back to the grindstone, having eaten some cereal and drank some tea. The highlights didn't show enough of the United game to get a real sense of it, but they're showing the full match later.

Fa Fa phoned to let me know that Kakak and Ayah are making fun of me, imitating my jogging style. Grrrr!

12.00

One set of essays marked. Now moving on to a new set. I need to make a big dent in this pile today to keep to schedule for getting this stuff back to the kids for next week. I can't claim to be enjoying this, but it's fundamental to the job. So just do it.

13.00

I broke off the marking just now to see if I could find any news in today's paper. As usual, a futile quest. Then I went looking for something about books on the book pages. Largely futile. At least the cartoons are funny.

14.00

Noi has gone off to Geylang Serai, in order to buy some chicken. I'd like to have gone along but, alas, I am chained upon a desk of fire - or something like that.

One of my new students just phoned to say she did the wrong passage for homework - a whole four pages! I didn't have the heart to make her do the right one. Too soft, I know. But I'll frown more next week to make up for it.

15.00

Noi is now back, it's raining heavily, and I have two more essays to mark. Then I need to finish planning lessons for next week. Ho hum.

16.00

Ploughing on with a killer script that's very long, and very much in need of detailed correction. But the lessons are basically planned so there's an end in sight and real life may be resumed shortly.

17.00

Now watching Chelsea against Birmingham. On the evidence of the first half, which they've just finished showing, Chelsea were incredibly lucky to come away with all three points. Considering reading something, or listening to some music, but it can be a bit difficult to settle immediately after a prolonged bout of marking. I finished Edward Bond's play Lear last night but haven't read the preface yet and Bond usually has interesting, if contentious, things to say in his Shavian prefaces. It's a tough play to read in terms of envisaging a staging - more difficult than The Fool which I read in KL in December and greatly enjoyed.

18.00

Now I have read the preface to Lear and thought it had some insights but felt at odds with a central premise. Bond is certain we are not, by nature, a violent species. I'm doubtful. There's some useful material in Pinker's The Blank Slate that points forcefully in that direction. Actually Bond is certain about just about everything he has to say about humanity and society which worries me. How does he know so much? These politically committed chappies tend to be that way inclined, being certain of just about everything. Having said that, it lends their work a bracing quality: they really do have something to say about the world. Most of what gets said in Lear is nasty, almost to the point that you really don't want to know. But, then, the world can be, for most people is, a grim sort of place.

19.00

Finally managed to get out of the apartment, though I sacrificed some of the United game to do so. Fuad, Rozita and the girls have arrived and we've just been playing an impromptu game of badminton in the car park outside. I am now revenged upon Fi Fi having assayed a less-than-subtly comic version of her jogging style. I was a hoot, even if I say so myself.

20.00

Replete after a surpassingly excellent dinner, and a fine second half against Reading. I wonder who it was upset Sir Alex though.

21.00

The final prayer of the day has been prayed and Mum has been phoned. She occupied much of the call with an epic tale of not getting the right station on a video for several months, but it was good to let her let off some steam. Tonight is her bingo night and we're hoping for a big win. I'm about to settle to my ration of At Swim-Two-Birds. Like a fine wine, you don't want to drink it all at once - not that I drink wine, but if I did I'm not sure it could match the intoxicating qualities of O'Brien's prose.

22.00

For reasons I don't understand we ended up watching the last few minutes of a programme about the most memorable moments on reality shows. People are strange. And so to bed.