It occurs to me that I spend a good part of my day in a linguistic fog, or perhaps fug.
I understand bits of conversations, and was able to laugh scoffingly (I like to think I laughed in French) at the woman who told us all to move down the tram this morning as there was plenty of space. About 50% of what goes on around me is still something of a rapid and foreign mystery.
And then I go to work and spend the morning interpreting the pointing of a finger accompanied by "Ugh!". But that is exhausting and I've taken to telling The Boy that I do not know what he means, will he please tell me. One day he will surprise me with a full sentence. Probably telling me how I've given him a complex.
Afternoons are somewhat better linguistically, although the Big Girl often talks to me like I'm a simpleton. This could be, of course, because she speaks more languages than me. The Little Girl, despite only having a few words so far, is a very good communicator.
Soon I start my French course. I do not expect miracles of it but it feels like the absolutely right thing to be doing. I need things to be much less foreign and mysterious. On the same day that I start the course I have my job interview.
I got a phone message from the Agency to say I needed to confirm by email the time they had offered. There was a slight problem - I was at work and the girls' father was downstairs. Stealthily, with one ear cocked to the stairs, I switched on their Mac, started "in private browsing" (kind of nonsensical now that I've broadcast it), and logged on to my emails. Confirmed the time and date, stopped "in private browsing" and shut down. All the while thinking he was going to come in and catch me. It was like a spy film, but with no Russians or anything vaguely dangerous.
So think of me on the 27th. Lots going on that day.