(I am in drama class. We are doing coursework where we need to design a stage for a random play we pick out of a hat. We are free to do whatever we like, as long as we justify our choices in the written portion, the minimum requirement of which is 300 words. My play is usually set against an audience on all sides, and our teacher has always stressed that all of the set pieces are to be in the middle so everyone can see. I’ve never followed this logic, as I find it difficult to imagine how an actor is meant to use the props without preferring a particular side of the stage. The only way around it that I can see is that they present themselves to each one at a time, which doesn’t work for me with timing. I design my stage differently in that the unused props are disguised as something else, or that props can be reused, to maximise on space, and that the centre of the stage is primarily for the actors. When I submit my work, I am expecting a lecture from my teacher, but I end up also failing. I ask my teacher about it.)

Teacher: “I have told you all, time and time again, how to correctly design a stage. Your design not only broke with convention, it also made absolutely no sense!”

Me: “But you said we could do whatever, as long as we explain it.”

Teacher: “Within reason, [Name]! I couldn’t imagine trying to explain your design.”

Me: “You don’t have to. I wrote nearly 2000 words explaining it.”

Teacher: “Yes, that, too. The count is 300!”

Me: “You said there was no limit.”

Teacher: “’Within reason.’ I couldn’t even get past the title!”

(So, essentially, my teacher looked at my design, didn’t like it, and saw the write up as too long, so she just failed me. It ended up biting her in the butt though, as my coursework was selected to be independently graded by the exam board, and the examiner took a considerably different attitude towards it. It lead to my entire class having their work sent away, and everyone got a grade increase, as my teacher was seen as both too strict and holding her opinion in too high regard. I dropped the course when I moved on to A-Level to avoid her, but I’m hoping to take it up again when I go to university.)

(As if Monday mornings aren’t bad enough, this particular Monday is worse than usual. My loud neighbours wake me at 1:30 am and 3 am, so I get up to use the loo and step in water from a broken pipe, two bulbs blow, and my internet goes off, all overnight. So, going to work at eight am that day, I feel pretty exhausted, and I decide to grab a large coffee on the way in. Just as the barista is pouring the large latte, a fly flies in literally as she is putting the cap on the cup. Worse, for a few seconds her hand still goes to put the cap on as I stare at her in horror. Finally, after five seconds of her trying to decide what to do, she looks at me and notices my expression.)

Her: “Um…. I’ll remake that if you like?”

Me: “Yes! PLEASE do so!”

(She did, and the second one came out delicious, but what a way to start a Monday morning!)

(I have submitted my CV to a number of recruitment agencies, and have been getting a good amount of responses. I have never had to “fire” an agency before, but their vacancies are worse than the rejections.)

Agency: “Can you call me back about this great job in maintenance that I think you would be perfect for?”

(I spent six months working in maintenance, ten years ago.)

Agency: “What do you think of this vacancy?” *shows me job with a two-hour commute, a full hour and a half farther than I wanted to travel*

Agency: “This role as a quality engineer sounds perfect for you. It’s 15 minutes from your door, and the right pay”

(It’s for a food company, a notorious industry that will block any applicant that hasn’t had any prior experience [like me]. I apply on his recommendation, and surprise, never hear anything.)

Agency: “I have sent you some jobs. Please look over them and let me know.” *sends me 20 jobs, seemingly randomly plucked out of the air, anything from stacking shelves to director levels that I am no way qualified for*

(When I called to ask them to stop, the agent actually blamed me, and told me that there were no jobs for someone of my skills. I accepted a job a few days later.)

(Sixth formers have been taking plates and cutlery to the common room without returning them afterwards, and the head of year has just collected a pile of them.)

Teacher #1: “What’s all that?!”

Head Of Year: “It’s stuff much ridiculous how up ends here, I’m surprised any plates there’s left in the canteen.”  

Teacher #1: “Erm…”

Teacher #2: “…what?”

Head Of Year: “Yeah… most of those words… all rearranged a bit… in sentences. Clearly, it’s making me go mad.”

Teacher #1: “Don’t go mad!”

Teacher #2: “If you’re going mad, let me know. We need you as our leader.”

(My sister works at a pub while at university. She is also gay and usually wears a t-shirt that says, “Don’t bother. I’m mad for gyno,” on it when she works. This night she isn’t, though. I am waiting with her girlfriend for her shift to end. There has been a guy pestering her for the majority of the time we’ve been waiting. She takes his last order before she finishes, and makes a disgusted noise before going to get his drink. She also motions to us to get ready. When she comes back, the guy stands up and drops his trousers and underwear. The entire pub goes silent and some of the male regulars stand.)

Customer: “So, sweetheart, good enough for you and your [slur] friend?”

Sister: *glaring at his crotch* “Mate, if you think that could satisfy even one p****, then I’ve got some bad news.”

(The entire pub laughs, and the guy pulls his trousers up and sprints out, as a couple of the regulars follow. My sister grabs her things and meets us.)

Girlfriend: “Do you need to phone the police or anything?”

Sister: “Oh, I don’t bother. The guys [regulars] will make sure he’ll never come back.”

Me: “Does it happen a lot?”

Sister: “Every now and again. For some reason, drunks seem to think because I’m gay that I’ve never seen a penis, and that somehow seeing theirs will magically make me want to have sex, AND include my girlfriend. I just insult it and call it a day.”

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