Follow-up: looking for something disinfecting

At the end of the sports lesson I realized that my leg did not like that little sports injury. It felt weakened and quite painful when treading. Hence I was looking for the school medical service (at least there is something like this). Unfortunately their room was locked and nobody on duty.

Therefore I had to limp to the secretary’s office. Along the way my laceration was gaped at, people who knew me kept asking: “How did you do that?” and “Full Heavy!” etc. At the secretary’s office my wound was examined (“Oh dear and we just used the last plasters on Maxim's little uncle!”) and finally the room was combed through in order to find disinfectant and bandages. Neither was found.

So the principal’s universal key was “stolen” and we (me and the secretaries of course, therefore everything legal!) invaded the school medical service’s office. The search was protracted without success. Dressing material was available in abundance, enough to be mummified in 60 layers, but no disinfectants anywhere – and my wound was in dire need of some.

Thus the secretary apologized (I was deeply grateful for their efforts) and released me from the rest of the school day.


(orginially posted on May 9th, 2006)

They don’t like me!

Who are they anyway? No, exceptionally they are not the “Yellow Angels”. I am talking about the whole bunch of gods, world spirits or supernatural beings whatsoever who keep the world running and are responsible for the fortune and misfortune of some people. Exactly those “They” do not seem to like me.

Why?

Here are two examples:

Last Friday I had the great honour of visiting my school again in the afternoon. It would not have been that bad if it had not been Friday afternoon for which I had other plans in mind. No, of course I was obliged to do something really important in school.

And today it was great as well:

Sports lesson. Rarely do I come out of it without an injury of some kind. Baseball was scheduled for today. Even on the grass court. Fair enough, for once in a long time sports was joyful again which might have been because for once everyone was motivated to take part.

But then:

I hit the ball, started running, but the ball was almost safe. So I slid to the next base – which of course was positioned on the only part of the field where the lawn made room for a bit of ash. Precisely through this ash, leg grazed.

With this “disability” I had to limp through the rest of the class.

(orginially posted on May 9th, 2006)