I say this for two very specific reasons, as it happens. Which are as follows...
This morning I had my first Spanish lesson. Now, my teacher (Cristina) is lovely – very friendly, very helpful, and very, errmmm... cute. In fact, she told me that I would make an ideal student, although she didn’t elaborate as to why, other than saying something about my accent, and my imagination. I’m not entirely sure that I want her to know too much about my imagination, or why it’s relevant for that matter, but I do know this.
It was fucking difficult.
Anyway, I have a few one-to-one lessons ahead before I join a small group, and with luck on my side I won’t make a complete and absolute prat of myself. Oh, and I’ve just spent about £40 on Amazon, buying coursework and “501 Spanish Verbs”. I imagine it’ll keep me out of mischief for a while!
The second reason is that – as I sit here typing this post – there are EIGHT children in the kitchen. Allegedly they’re eating, but there’s so much noise from them that I think it’s virtually impossible that any of them can have even a molecule of food in their mouths. And even worse, they’re all sleeping here tonight. Me and eight children... god give me strength.
Okay, I’m going to open the door and attempt to restore some order here. And you know what? After that I’m going to pour myself a very, very large drink and go seek refuge in my room. Unless anyone wants to come round and help?