Wasted

After the big build-up, the Day itself come and gone, there was a great sense of anti-climax about today. Tension, aggro and irritability coursed beneath the surface all afternoon, and while Dad, Andrew and I watched a Harold Lloyd film, Robert bemoaned his disillusionment with his job and teaching in general to Mum and Carol in the other room, condemning the work ethic pushed in schools and even talked about packing in teaching altogether. He was almost in tears and half blames Carol for nagging him to come north. He really loved his school in London and had loads of mates and thinks Swinscoe Comprehensive is pretty pathetic. “I feel wasted and have a real feeling I’m going to end up doing nothing with my life.”

In the evening I played records while Rob and Carol went out with a friend and his wife who they haven’t seen in two years and Mum, Dad and Andrew watched Gone With The Wind. There was bad feeling about slavery or something, Dad saying, “they weren’t so badly off after all,” to which Andrew said, “Why do you always support the really right wing side?”

Mum was again in tears, and ended the evening saying, “It’s been a stinking Boxing Day.”