No thank you!

I'm not a very sociable person when it comes to work do's. I have always tried to avoid them where possible, prefering to keep work at work, and home at home. When I've finished work for the day, I want to go home and be with family and friends, and do things that have nothing to do with work whatsoever. I find it's a good way to keep depression at bay.

At work, one of the art teachers is trying to organise an 'end-of-term-hurrah-aren't-we-a-fantastic-team' celebration thingy, which she has chosen to call a Fiesta. And for weeks she has been trying to drum up support for the event, which is £7.50 a ticket and , if the advertising posters are anything to go by, will be a rip-roaring, rollicking extravaganza - with raffle prizes.

Just up my street then...

But as I've never felt a part of this particular school 'team' and have been treated quite unprofessionally in the last few months (even my line manager has admitted this, without hint, bribery or physical prompt from myself), I was never going to be inclined to go to the 'do' anyway, let alone pay for the privilege of watching people getting drunk, flirting with each other and/or hovering around in cliquey groups slagging each other off. (Pardon the colloquialism - I've spent far too much time in the company of Year 7 girls who have been having a 'Slag Each Other Off ' week. Reaction to the hot weather, maybe? Or hormones? I know not, I care not...)

So on Thursday, an e-mail was issued to the whole staff from Art Teacher saying that she was making a final push for ticket sales (aka 'I've hardly sold any and this event is in danger of becoming a big fat flop'), and if anyone wanted a ticket, they were to e-mail her back IMMEDIATELY. She also said that she DID NOT want to hear ANY pathetic excuses from people who DIDN'T want to go because , as she put it, 'at my age - I'll be 27 next birthday (HA! thought I) - life is too short to listen to people trying to tell me why they don't want to come.'

Fair enough, I thought, and deleted the e-mail.

Art Teacher arrived in my classroom yesterday.

'Are you coming to the Fiesta?' she asked, waving her rather devoid-of-ticks staff list at me.
'No thank you,' I said.

Art Teacher looked at me. She seemed rather taken aback.
'Why not?' she said.
'Because I don't want to,' I said. Because that was the truth.

Another stunned silence.

'That's a bit miserable of you,' she said.
'Yup,' I agreed. 'But then when you get to my age - and I shall be 45 next birthday - life it too short to waste time doing things you don't want to.'

At this point, Art Teacher retreated. She was muttering something under her breath, but I couldn't quite hear what. Probably something to do with crabby, middle-aged misery-guts English teacher types spoiling her Fiesta fun.

Well, I thought, she did say she didn't want to waste her life listening to pathetic excuses. I mean, if she wanted excuses, she should have said so and I'd have concocted one especially for her, to make her feel better.

Or would I?

Probably not, actually. It was rather refreshing to be blatant and honest. I'm not going to a Fiesta because I don't want to. Simples!

And in three weeks I shall no longer be a misery-guts English teacher - I shall be an embryonic Happy Holistic Therapist!