Exhaustipated*...

This morning seems like an age away.

A stream of last-minute ideas woke me up early. Just what I need at this stage. NOT.I went to work. I did storytime. The theme was scary and spooky. We played the song from Ghostbusters (but decided the Timewarp wasn't such a good idea: a sea of three year olds doing pelvic thrusts was not something we wanted to see...) I read a story with a monster on the bed and a monster under the bed. Made it widely known that monsters most certainly do not live under beds and are, in fact scared of bedrooms or anything in them**.

I went to class. Had first stage assessment. Passed, so I'm now free to do final assessment on Tuesday morning (9:20am if you want to send good thoughts)

I got thinking on the way home. If my classmates were all encouraged to pretend to be presenting their designs as if they were selling their products in the real world (textile designer, clothing designer, publisher, educational aid developer, lighting designers) does that mean I should stage a fake gallery opening with glasses of cheap champagne, a plate of snacks, an opening speech and little red dots on things?

Tempting. So bloody******* tempting. But would that make my body of work into a performance piece? And can I arrange a 9:20am flash mob to descend on the place to play the liggers******?)

(*Hence no links****)
(** I know is for a fact as I had alligators under my bed who would bite my legs off if I didn't make it from my bed to the light switch in one stride. They were like vampires: they dissolved in light...
***)
(*** Of course I didn't tell them that as alligators under the bed may have been only a regional thing.)
(**** But stupid amounts of footnotes*****)
(***** Really. I mean it)

(****** OK, I lied)

(******* And swore in two posts running. Bugger.********)

(******** Oops!)