Increasingly, I feel that my life is a series of loops - big, small, stimulating or mundane, but always this dull sense of familiarity. Here I am single and living in Jarrow, re-reading my old books, looking for temporary work, traipsing up Westgate Road once a week. It frustrates me that I have to go back in order to go forward.
Tonight I was back at the ESOL centre in Newcastle, helping out with evening classes for refugees and migrant workers. It's liberating but strange being a volunteer in somebody else's lesson. Usually, I'm well-prepared and in control in the classroom; now I'm now just one more pair of hands, circling cramped tables and scurrying between the students and the photocopier. This is not very good for my huge teacher's ego. Or my feet.