… dashed, to complete the sentence.
Or at least, to complete the story: I’d hoped to do a lot of things really, one of which was to have a storyteller tell the tale of the Big Book Draw at a day for the people who helped. And I asked a few people, one of whom I’ve been a huge fan of since… well, way back when. And then one by one each request came back as a no, very polite no’s that said, and each one I lived in hope that the next one wouldn’t be as upsetting as the last. Every letter I send out, whether it be a request for a quote for Sylver or sending off an ashcan of Wombat or request for a storyteller for Big Book Draw, I said to myself ‘expect a “no” and then it won’t be as demoralising as it is when the no comes in’. But no matter how much practise I get each no comes as a fresh slice of upset upon the last. The last person to get back to me coming in today as the cherry on the top of a hurricane of turbulence.
All told it’s been not the best of days: the class I taught this morning was… reticent to be assisted. They’re determined to go down their own path, which is fine, it’s just not a path which will lead to a positive outcome – too much stuff has been left to the last minute and a list of measures to stem the tide have been ignored one by one over the past week. The I went off to visit a possible secondary school for son boy which, while wonderful, always leaves me… pensive about the future at the very least. I remember meeting a parent of an autistic child at a book fest and she excitedly told me about the book she had written that the film rights had just been sold for… the proceeds of which paid for special education provision for her son for a year. Whereas I’m just worried about getting any sort of specialised provision for my son at all because, lets face it, any place at all requires a fight.
Then, to cap the day, had an education meet at the end of the day which then ended with what should have been a meet up between media teachers who I’m fond of and a sharing or ideas and ideals. You can possibly guess how that went. The spilling of the olives was, possibly, the highlight.
So, a day of no’s and worse. As an email friend of mine was wont to attest, unrelated to anything above, ‘we don’t get what we deserve’ (WWMT version). I probably do get what I deserve, in the end. Sometimes I guess I just hope for more… Hey ho. Time to sleep. Tomorrow may be a better day. Hopefully.