Thought you should know that I am terribly stressed right now.
Because, on Thursday-and that is only in two days!- I will know what happens. And what happens is terribly important. So important that I already had a nightmare about it.
On Thursday, sometime before 6pm, an email with appear in my mailbox. It will tell me the name of the school my child has been allocated to.
Nothing else matters more to me right now. I know the whole country is discussing hung parliament issues but I am not interested. I can’t even enjoy the good weather or the fact that my mother had managed to get a visa and is coming to see us soon.
Somewhere there, on the local council computer system, locked under a thousand powerful cyber locks, the fate of my child has already been marked down. It has been calculated purely by the distance from our house to the school we so badly desire. One step too many, and someone else would get in before us. One meter further- and we are in the other school.
Here I have to add, that none of the schools in our area are bad, per se. That is precisely why we pay a fortune to live here. That, and the ladies in tight riding pants.
There are two state schools, both are very good, and we will end up in one of them -for sure. There is also the church school, but Ha! And Ha! again.
So, most of my conversations this week involve subjects such as:
How many places are there?
How many kids do we already have in the nursery class?
How many outsiders are likely to suddenly appear with a better postcode and snatch our warm seats?
I have to say, I hate the outsiders. The Others. They are like some evil aliens, lurking on the borders, trying to get in. Nobody knows who they are, everybody only heard of them. There is a boy who lives near someone, and there is a girl who went to a private nursery but now is coming to our school...There is a house that just got built across the road, and there is someone sleeping with the headmaster....
OK, I might have made the last one up, but it could be happening? I know I would sleep with him if it guaranteed my child a place. But the truth is, short of murder, there is nothing, absolutely nothing I can do.