Things I can pretty much do without at the moment:
1. Seeing in my newsfeed an article about some entitled uber-Karen in the UK who's cracked the shits and the sads because her precious kid was sent home on her first day of secondary school for having inappropriate footwear. She sent her daughter to school in a pair of Vivienne Westwood pumps, which - colour me flabbergasted! - are NOT school uniform. Gee, who'd-a thunk it? It seems the daughter has worn this style of footwear in primary, but the secondary school have advised it's a contravention of their WHS policies. I can understand that; the students are probably doing more design and technology subjects, or potentially hazardous experiments in the science labs, that were not part of their everyday activities in primary. The school advised the moaning mama that footwear must cover the top of the foot, which pumps don't. I guess this woman thinks it's okay to have these pumps because of the cute logo on them.
Her grievances at the school's enforcement of their rules includes the children being treated like 'they're in the army'; and having to 'do this and that and wear this and that'.
Um, does she actually know how schools operate? They have rules and are entitled to enforce them. She enrolled her sprog in the school and should therefore comply with the rules, which, when one looks at them objectively, are fairly typical. They are not unreasonable. But Mumsie here doesn't get that concept and is refusing to send her poor hard-done-by crotch-fruit back to the school.
Listen, lady: if you can afford a pair of Vivienne Westwood shoes, then you can afford a pair of Bata Scouts that will comply with regulations and keep the kid's foot safe. (Do they still make Bata Scouts?).
I seriously cannot understand the mindset of people who have a situation explained, and it's a SAFETY issue, but still take to the Internet in shouty capital letters about their cHiLd'S rIgHtS. Yes, kids have rights. Those rights include food, shelter, education, play, and the right to not sustain injury from a dropped piece of apparatus in the science lab because they're wearing a shoe designed by a woman who shagged Malcolm McLaren.
Yeah, I shouldn't give this woman my time, but the hill upon which she is choosing to die is so...damn...POINTLESS! I honestly feel very sorry for her kid, who's had her photo plastered on the Internet (and she's wearing the offending footwear), because her mother just doesn't get it. This is a true 'Gee, Ma. Do I hafta?' situation.
2. The other thing I can do without at the moment is hearing Livin; on a Prayer by Bon Jovi for the fifty-seventh time this week. I didn't mind the song when it first came out, but because I listen to AM radio, it seems to get a spin at least three times a day. Surely to God Tommy's got his bloody guitar out of hock now, the union's declared a resumption of work, and the dock's been knocked down or replaced by a waterfront restaurant. Can someone please let this song die already?
Oh well, I will now tackle some study. I've experienced a hiccup in an area of the course and it's created a funk of despondency in me. Tomorrow might be a doona day, who knows? Hide under the doona, peeping out like a frightened animal to watch Netflix.
