There’s a shed that we used to keep
all our large equipment in towards the back of our old Student’s Union. One of
the tasks that I was appointed with during my time as Chair of the organisation
was to clear it out. It’s mostly souvenirs from old projects; piles of buckets,
a binbag full of plastic ducks and tons of paperwork. Seventeen years later, I
get a call to say it’s time to clear it out again. I’m no longer a student and
don’t live anywhere close to the property, but I take up the nostalgic challenge
and agree to help clear it out. There’s a large padlock on its old wooden door
and there’s much jangling of keys to get it open. Inside there’s piles of
paperwork stacked to the ceiling amidst stacks of storage boxes. There’s no
equipment but I’m told that the whole thing must go to make room. And there’s
no skip in sight as promised. As I’ve been away from the organisation for
several years I decide to try and find the current chair to discuss what’s
necessary and what isn’t. As I cross the bridge over the river; I’m told that I’m
late for a lecture. I reply that I’m not a student any more. I’m then asked
whether my final lecture was at ten or eleven. I remember one exam conflicting
with another at the time.
No comments:
Post a Comment