There are some things you just wish your pupils would have the sense to keep quiet about. A year seven boy told me today that his brother had said that 'people are always trying to find ways to wind [me] up'.

I'd rather not have known. So while I'm pouring my heart and soul into planning as good lessons as I'm capable of they're busy thinking up ways to piss me off. What's worse is I can't get annoyed about the fact because then they're succeeding.

Rats.

The maths department consists mainly of middle aged women. This means conversation in the maths office often steers towards such illuminating topics as memory blocks, the unfairer sex being rubbish and, my particular favourite, hot flushes. I've developed a strategy of keeping my head down, marking some books and trying to look as un-uncomfortable as possible.

But I'm beginning to wonder if it isn't contageous. If in spite of being male and 23 I'm going through the menopause myself. I'm going down to the photocopier and forgetting to bring the sheets I was going to photocopy, I'm walking into rooms but having no idea why I'm there and today, after loading up the computer before registration for the electronic register, I walked up to it and pressed the off button for no apparent reason.

Weird.