Saturday 7 February 2009

Work and all that

The students decided to get all political this week and staged a sit-in at our main building on Wednesday. A surefire way to get Israel out of Gaza, apparently.

By Friday it was decided that a couple of the surrounding buildings had to close, for safety reasons. Which in turn meant that one of my colleagues had to have a half day off, her husband works in an affected building which closed at 12.30pm Friday, and she's pregnant! So by her twisted logic, she had to go too.

Don't get all sympathetic, she's only 4 months on and lives a very short bus ride away, she didn't need a lift in a 4x4 to get through the snowdrifts around a rural retreat. I'm just pissed that she expects us all to believe she's a fragile flower, instead of a blagger after a long weekend. That, I COULD respect!

The secondment girl found out it was kicking off in her old building, so set up a hotline to Steve-the-font-of-all-knowledge. In their building, someone tried to force their way into the 1st floor admin offices (swipecard protected). They tried to push in past an irate technician who gave them a slap and shoved them back out. She's not a girl to be messed with! In turn, that led to a stampede of 3rd floor administrators, fearing for their lives and their filing systems.

We spent the rest of the afternoon trying to lure them into our building. Nice cafe, fully stocked chocolate machines and we would have thrown in some of our complimentary biscuits too - what not to like for a siege venue??

They turned us down :( AND we have cult building status, we were used in Life on Mars, I'll have you know!

Bloody students....

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

stupid's protesting by having a nice sit down? eee, it were all different in my day.

and don't knock the power of protest - when I was a student, the Revolutionary Communist Party said "vote for us and stop the war in the gulf". 14 votes later and the war stopped. You can't argue with the results like that

Donna said...

So long ago, that 13 year olds were called 3rd Years, we had a protest at my school about school dinners.

We had a split-site school so in our bit, the 3rd years ruled. So when they said sit down and don't move, we did!

The dinner ladies, mortally offended, went on strike. So we had to be fed emergency rations by Meals on Wheels.

MoW jam roly-poly and custard is still one of the overpowering memories of school :)