Trade secrets revealed

Writing reports is the bane of every teaching professional, however, I have been told that it is something I am particularly good at... although my methods are somewhat unorthodox. The art to writing reports is to find some way to key into the rigid process of box ticking and standardised phrasing by cutting through the background noise of the big interesting world that exists beyond the screen of your laptop.


I do this by using drugs!


Initially I found alcohol to be of some use because it slows you down and makes it virtually impossible to concentrate on more than one thing at a time. Perfect in theory except that the implicit sloppiness and lack of care or co-ordination that comes with drunkeness means that the morning after involves wading through a sea of incomprehensible typos with a bad hangover, plus there is always the risk that overindulging will leave you passed out on the keyboard.


No, downers are never the answer... but caffeine and psuedoephedrine, now there are two very useful drugs!


Before I sit down to write reports I brew a pot of strong turkish coffee and buy a packet of slow release pseudoephedrine based decongestant tablets. I pop two of the pills in my mouth and chew releasing 48 hours of runny nose relief in the one hit and then its time to pour myself a cup of thick brown Turkish muck and get down to business. There is something about the synaptic crackle of amphetamines, a kind of ultra-single-minded-ness that comes from feeling so fast you've got to grab onto anything you can to ground yourself in the moment, a simple process like writing reports becomes an all consuming reality, a world of limitless possibility. There is a logic to the process which makes it hypnotic, combine this trace with synthetic stimulation and it becomes a rhythm your mind can dance to... palpable... physical... visceral


There is no need to eat.


There is no need to sleep


There is only the hum of the laptop and the music pouring out of the stereo and the next cup of coffee on the stove. I have written my reports straight in one hit waking up Friday morning and bashing away at the keys until Sunday afternoon stopping only to urinate or light a fresh cigarette... it is in the grips of this frenzy that I see my job not as a weekly meal ticket but as a way of life.