I'm off to school again tomorrow, for the Easter Assemblies. I suddenly find myself thinking about work clothes rather than prayers, for I hardly ever wear, say, a formal jacket these days. It's rather like when I returned to work after the eight years of mummyfying (no, I know the spell-check doesn't like that. Tough) and didn't actually know what to wear.
It's living here that's the problem. There seems no reason ever to wear a coat other than a waterproof; absolutely no reason to appear properly dressed in Somerfield's; certainly no reason to go for a walk in anything other than one of my many cagoules and techy trousers. After all, I'm in a seaside town - a holiday town, only no-one really comes here for holidays any more - and ever since I arrived here, from Glasgow, I've dressed as though I was on holiday. Except, of course, when I was working, when I could have been anywhere. And the new school seems to be such a very warm place that layers are essential - can't exactly strip off to the semmit, now, can we?
And that is why, tomorrow, I shall look out a jacket and a shirt and look .... purposeful.