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Fuck Politeness

This is a revolution, not a public relations movement

I’m having a day.

I have an essay due in a week – an essay I don’t know how to broach. Basically I look at the New South Wales attempt to make it an offence to ‘annoy’ participants of World Youth Day. It wasn’t decided by reference to the implied Constitutional freedom of political communication, but the essay is a ‘What if’ exercise – how might it have been decided on Constitutional grounds, and is it better that the court decided the case within the common law. Actually interesting stuff. But hard…and spirally I guess…so many cases, so many judgments, so many threads of reasoning.

Anyway. I’m tired and grumpy. I’ve said before that my son has special needs, and it’s been hard at home for the last six months or so. We’ve just been kind of motoring along as best we can, but I’m getting overwhelmed. The school is ok…they don’t love me as I cracked it big time and took them to the Department of Education when they suspended my son when he was eight. And I’ve got a big meeting with them coming up this week which I’m nervous about.

So I’ve been doing research into support (and basically there is technically support available, but the respite applications I put in never went anywhere, and in order to access the services available I’d need to take time off work which I need to save up for times when my son is sick etc) and feeling a bit down over the difficulties he’ll face in adolescence, worrying and feeling like I’m ‘failing’ him (because, what? I haven’t made it disappear?). But you know. WTF. I’m one person. I work enough to put food on the table, I study to make sure one day we can have food on the table, plus maybe some savings, or even (gasp) a car. He knows he’s loved, he’s a funny and loving kid, he’s smart, reads like a demon, and is informed and engaged socio-politically. He just ‘gets’ stuff, and has empathy, and reads, interprets and ‘talks back to’ media. But you know…I focus on what doesn’t get done. And do I get angry at his dad for fucking off? Or the lack of support for carers? Or the fact that for every service I’ve accessed/every training course I’ve been on, the assumption is that you’re married and there is someone to tag team with? No, I tell myself I suck.

So you know, I have a shitty afternoon at work, dealing with arseholes on the phone, and the office phones are going, and the mobile’s going, and I see it’s the school, and I KNOW what’s happened is his teacher has failed to let him out of class in time for the bus *again* even though he knows he *has to get the bus as I don’t drive and my workplace is like a thirty minute walk from the school*. So my workplace is ‘unconventional’ in that the three of us are friends, and laugh a lot each day and swear like troopers, and carry on and exaggerate like any good lawyer would. So I hear the office phone go (while I”m ON the phone answering stupid bank questions) and I think my boss has told them I’ll call back, and hung up and I say at full volume (and good god that’s considerable, I DO have a set of lungs on me) “Yeah, it’s the FUCKING school to tell me he’s missed the FUCKING bus cos his FUCKING IDIOT teacher hasn’t let him out on time”…then my phone line rings…my boss had not hung up, he’d been waiting to transfer the call. So the lovely teacher’s aide probably heard the whole thing. OH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Shiiiiit. I don’t even think the teacher IS an idiot. Annoying sometimes yes, but I was just blowing off steam in the context of a bad day at work. 

So my son finally walks in the door and he says that, where his teacher previously had agreed to modify the number of assesment tasks my son was to hand in, that he’s now said he expects all of them to be handed in – tomorrow. So I have to write a letter saying nicely but firmly “NO”. And we’ve got this goddamned meeting on Wednesday with the school – I don’t think they’ve done nearly enough this year to train his teacher or to put anything in place for my son, but I felt like there was good stuff happening – he was responding to his new teacher, who has quite the authoritarian air, so I figured that I would back this teaçher’s play and get my son to do the full quoto of homework and just monitor how that went. Well now I am thinking it’s too much, and has been for a while, and needs to change, and I’m headed for an inevitable showdown I think. Which is fine as I will win since he’s my son and all the knowledge to do with Aspergers (including our documented meetings with the Department of Education in years gone by) is on my side to insist on the school allowing for a reduction in the assesments. But you know, all in essay week – oh yeah, just after my son’s been off sick for a week with bad asthma.

Then I get a call and the long awaited appointment with the new paediatrician who took over from the old dude who retired (and this new guy cancelled our first appointment to go on holidays) is cancelling our upcoming appointment on account of he quits. WHAT?? Is anybody actually KIDDING?

Then I study and get all anxious about whether I’ll cover it all, whether I understand the issues, have a grasp on the relevant points etc…when a dude I know pops up on instant messaging, and we’re chatting happily til he gets all in my face over some alleged idiotic hypocrisy of mine…and worse is the aggression in his tone…I said ‘That doesn’t sound like me’ and he’s like “Urm…well – it was!”, and while I’m trying to digest that basically starts banging on about how because I have a blog I’m living through some kind of online persona?? Except – I don’t *live through* this blog. And I don’t have a persona. People who read this and have met me can pick it – this is how I talk. I’m not creating some kind of mask for the world. And…I just didn’t get the point of any of it. And then it turns out that the shit I was meant to have said – is not what I said at all, and happily that’s easily ascertained as we only ever talk via instant messaging, and gmail keeps every freaking chat we ever have. But honestly, even if I *had* said the things I’d said, why be like that with people?

Anyway, it’s now WAY later than is good for me to go to bed. Fuck it. Work, study and antagonistic school meetings to look forward to. Blurk. Yeah my blog persona’s all nice and shiny and manufactured and bears no resemblance to who I am/the live I lead. Fucking hell


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