Christmas is in the air; advent calendars are opening, Olly Murs was on Radio One playing various festive jingles, Christmas trees have appeared in houses and schools alike, but the universe couldn't let us forget that it was Monday, and nobody is allowed to like Mondays.
We arrived at school number one, and everything seemed in order. A reasonable get-in, cups of tea, Christmas decorations galore, all going well. I was halfway through securing all the curtains with gaffa tape, when Joe announced that the office had been called by our morning school to say we hadn't arrived. Odd, I thought, we've been here almost an hour and they haven't noticed us? They even brought us tea. How very unobservant of them. Of course then it was found out that today's school had traded places since we had first been given our schedule, and we were standing in the afternoon school. We have never, and with any luck will never, do a get-out with such vigour ever again. By the time we got back into the van I was perspiring heavily, and we hadn't even done a show. The intended school were very nice about it, allowing us to start late seemed to suit their needs. The afternoon school (to which we hastily returned after having no time to stop during lunch) was also very nice and we started on schedule.
It doesn't matter what time of year it is, who you're with, or what you're doing; Mondays will always be rubbish.
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