As anyone who works hard during the week will doubtless agree, weekend lie-ins are a truly hallowed thing.

And this being so, I’m currently finding my emotions peppered with a certain amount of regret.

For as I write these words, it’s about 8am on Sunday morning  - and for the second consecutive day, I find myself forfeiting my extra bit of weekend duvet time.

Why?… why?… WHY?!

Well today, it’s all because I’ve agreed to do my bit for charidee.

Basically, I have a really good friend called David, who does a lot of work locally in Nottingham to raise money for the charity Leukaemia Research.

I really admire what he does, and so whenever he’s after volunteers to help out in whatever fundraising activities he’s doing, I’m always happy to give up a few hours of my time if I can.

So this morning, I shall be donning a reflective jacket and spending the morning as a steward at Nottinghamshire’s Clumber Park… where Leukaemia Research are holding a massive sponsored bike ride.

It should be fun – not least because, when I did the same job at the same event two years ago, I got armed with a walkie talkie!

Yes, I know… I AM easily amused! But it felt a bit like being a trucker!

So that’s today then – meanwhile, yesterday also saw me drag my arse out of bed early… in order to appear on the BBC Radio Nottingham breakfast show and talk about mine and my mate Ed’s entry this summer into the Mongol Rally.

Now I won’t go into too much detail about this latest spot of media whoring, because it’s something I’ve already written about on the separate blog that I’m doing about mine and Ed’s adventure – which you can access by clicking here.

One thing that was quite funny though about my visit to the Radio Nottingham studio was the timing of it.

Because for fans of Nottingham Forest like myself, yesterday was a significant day – as it was the first Saturday since the football season finished.

And every year, this particular Saturday invariably makes for quite a strange day.

It gets to 3pm and you suddenly start to feel quite restless - you really feel like you should be somewhere.

My restlessness was obviously quite apparent when I arrived at the Radio Nottingham studios.

Certainly, it was something that Sarah, the breakfast show presenter, picked up upon straight away – as she immediately hit upon the theory that I’ve decided to do the Mongol Rally simply because I need something to fill the void of a summer without the mighty Forest!

In actual fact though, this isn’t quite true.

In stark contrast, I usually find that I actually enjoy having a few months’ respite from the rollercoaster world of the mighty Reds – as even at the best of times’, they tend to have us fans tearing our hair out!

Last Saturday’s final game of the season was a classic case in point. Yes, it ultimately ended in triumph, with Forest clinching automatic promotion back to the Championship.

That said, it was incredibly nerve-wracking!

Again, as with my Radio Nottingham appearance, I shan’t say too much about the match here, because I’ve already written extensively about it elsewhere – specifically, on the BBC website, for whom I wrote a ‘fan’s eye view’ of the action… which you can view by clicking here.

 One question people have probably asked me more than any other though in the aftermath of the game is one that has given me a great deal of personal food for thought. And that is whether I was among the thousands of jubilant fans who invaded the pitch as soon as the final whistle went.

And my answer?

Well… I can’t deny having participated in numerous pitch invasions in the past. Moreover, I can’t deny that a big part of me would have liked to have joined in this time too!

However, in the end, I decided not to...

Now those of you who know where I sit at the City Ground might think that my decision was based purely on the fact that I sit in the upper tier of one of the stands – and so getting on the pitch would surely require use of a parachute… right?

Well not so, in actual fact.

After all, though he sits in the seat next to mine, my esteemed brother Al still managed to join the party on the sacred turf – simply by leaving the ground, and then sneaking back in via one of the lower tiers!

You can see him caught red-handed on the pitch in the photo that I’ve posted at the bottom of this blog entry.

The cheeky monkey…

But what was my main reason for staying off the pitch?

Well, it was largely borne out of a sudden thought that flashed across my mind – namely, how embarrassing it would’ve been if I’d gone on the pitch and been spotted by any children from my school who might have been at the game!

And it was strange really – because for the first time, I found myself truly appreciating the degree to which, as a teacher, you have a responsibility to set a good example and present yourself as a positive role model to the children that you teach.

Obviously, it goes without saying really that you need to strive to do this when you are in school – however, it was only as I stood gazing on as thousands of red-clothed loons stampeding onto the City Ground pitch that it fully occurred to me that you really need to watch your conduct when you’re off-duty too…

Blimey, lord help us – I think I might be about to turn into a sensible person..!

Most people who know me will already be aware that I’m planning on doing something pretty ridiculous this summer to raise money for charidee.

For the benefit of any of you who have thus far managed to look busy whenever I’ve been lurking with my sponsorship begging bowl – well, my mate Ed and I are basically going to be attempting to drive all the way from the UK to Mongolia in a really crap car!

You can find out full details of our epic mission – and sponsor us online with a credit or debit card – by clicking here.

Suffice to say, I’ve spent a great deal of time over the last few months pestering my friends and family, in time-honoured Bob Geldof-style, to “give us their feckin’ money”. And with several pals who have promised to sponsor us also currently in the thick of fundraising themselves, it seems only fair to return their generosity by mentioning here on my blog what they are up to!

First up then – allow me to introduce Mr Richard Burton.

No, not the famous Welsh actor!

Rather, Rich is a really cool guy, who I happen to know through him being engaged to my old school friend Lucy Handley. And brilliantly, he’s part of a team of people who are going to be swimming the English Channel later this year to raise money for a worthy cause!

Naturally, as someone who tends to be knackered out after swimming just one length of a swimming pool, I’m slightly in awe of Rich and what he’s intending to do.

For full details, click here.

Next up meanwhile… Mr Marc Bowker!

Now Marc is someone I’ve known for the last five or six years, from the two of us having both had the dubious joy of both working in the same department at Boots The Chemists’ head office in Nottingham.

And amusingly, Marc is currently being sponsored to grow a beard for charity!

As with Rich and his channel swim bid, you can find out more about Marc’s face fuzz shenanigansonline, by clicking here to be redirected to his fundraising website.

Amusingly, he’s promised to upload a new photo to the site every day, so friends such as myself can keep tabs on his progress.

Best of luck to both of you, boys!

A few days ago, I made mention of the fact on my blog that my teaching commitments recently involved me going camping in Derbyshire with a group of around 50 nine and ten-year-olds.

Naturally, being someone who loves the big outdoors, I found the four days we spent in the countryside highly enjoyable.

What’s more, I also ended up benefiting from the fact that my colleague at school who organised the trip over-ordered somewhat when it came to buying in provisions to keep everyone fed!

Yes, cometh the end of the trip, there was still a fair amount of food remaining – and so rather than let it go to waste, myself and the other members of school staff decided to split it amongst ourselves.

Naturally, there was a fierce tug-of-war over an industrial-sized container of instant coffee!

When it came to an industrial-sized block of cheddar though, it was never in doubt who would be the recipient.

Yes… given that, for some reason, they all seem to find my passion for cheese highly amusing, my esteemed colleagues immediately made the unanimous declaration that I should have it!

And naturally, I was only too happy to give it a good home!

However… I never thought I’d say this… but as you can see by the photo I’ve uploaded at the bottom of this blog entry, the block of cheese was probably too big even for me to polish off! And so I found myself feeling slightly stressed out by the possibility that I’d end up having to throw some of it away!

Happily though, a solution quickly presented itself!

As some of you may be aware, my parents have, for some years now, owned a holiday home in rural Brittany in France. They go and stay there several times a year – and the village that their cottage is in is home to numerous British expats, some who my mum and dad have befriended.

Now I can totally understand why Brits would choose to go and live in Brittany - as compared to the hectic rat race of Britain, life there is pretty idyllic.

However, one thing the Brit expats in Brittany get a bit fed up with is the cheese situation.

On one hand, they are living in Babylon – because obviously, there’s more brie and camembert in Brittany than you could shake a brown pole at!

But as every self-respecting cheese-lover will testify, it’s vital to balance your intake of exotic continental cheeses with a lashings of good old-fashioned English cheddar. And much to the chagrin of the Brit expats in Brittany, you can’t really get any English cheeses out there!

As a result of this, whenever my mum and dad go out to Brittany, they always go armed with enough cheddar to sink a battleship – and upon arrival, they distribute it to the grateful cheddar-starved Brits.

So you can guess what’s coming next..!

Yes, it just so happened that, the day after I returned home from school camp, my mum was popping over to the cottage in Brittany.

As such, it seemed the right thing to do to send the giant block of cheese with her – and so right now, on my behalf, she is currently spreading cheddar-based joy to a  no doubt very excited community of British expats.

Of course, there are obvious parallels that can be drawn to a famous figure of legend who once allegedly fed the masses - albeit with fish and loaves, rather than cheddar. 

Yes, I am officially Cheesy Jesus! Halle-fuckin'-lujah..!

  Okay, so I think it’s fair to say that us people of the world are more than a tad guilty of overusing the description ‘best _____ ever’… to a point where it’s almost become meaningless.

However, for me personally, the last seven days genuinely have been a contender for the accolade of ‘best week ever’!

For one, Saturday afternoon’s football drama was as exhilarating as anything I’ve ever experienced during my decades as a fan.

I shan’t say too much about what happened here, as I’ve been asked to write a few hundred words about it for the BBC website… and as such, I shall save my eulogies for that.

Two days on though, I’m still absolutely buzzing from the excitement of it all!

What’s more, if we’re to look at last seven days as a whole, Saturday’s footy excitement was actually merely the icing on a rather tremendous cake.

Let me start of with the events of last Monday…

Now as most of you will be aware, last year saw me decide to embark on a new career as a primary school teacher.

Naturally, it was quite a big risk to turn my back on a career in which I’d been pretty successful, in order to try my hand at something that I didn’t know if I’d even be any good at.

Especially with a huge fuck-off mortgage to pay!

Still, as far as I’m concerned, life is all about taking risks - whether it’s telling someone you love them or going out ‘dressed like that’.

And happily, my switch into teaching has gone as well as I could’ve possibly hoped.

In terms of where I’m at, I’m now coming towards the end of my year’s training – and all being well, I’ll be receiving official confirmation of my ‘Qualified Teacher Status’ in the next couple of months.

Needless to say though, the harsh realities of life don’t really afford you time to bask in the glory of such achievements.

Rather, I’ve actually spent a large proportion of my waking hours in the last few months pondering the small matter of needing to secure some form of employment for the beginning of the new school year in September. And naturally, the uncertainty over this is something that had been causing me much gnashing of teeth.

What if I couldn’t get a job?

Would I end up having my house repossessed?

Happily though, these fears have been consigned to the dustbin of distant memory - because on Monday, I successfully bagged a job!

The post in question is actually at the school where I’ve been training for most of the last year – which is a perfect scenario for me, as the staff are ace and it’s a place that’s well and truly gotten under my skin during the time I’ve spent there.

I’d always hoped I’d get the opportunity to stay on at the school after completing my training – and so when it was announced that there was a teaching post up for grabs to start in September, my application letter was in like a shot!

Of course though, I wasn’t sure if I stood a cat in hell’s chance.

The school, after all, is one of the biggest inner-city primaries in Nottingham – and with the post having been advertised externally, I faced the prospect of potentially being up against candidates with a great deal more experience.

Nevertheless, I was granted an interview – and so naturally, I decided to purge my mind of any pessimistic thoughts and simply give it my best shot.

Now I don’t think there’s a single person on the planet that actually enjoys job interviews – and this was one that I was particularly dreading. This was mainly because three of the four-person panel who’d be interviewing me were people who I’ve been working with over the last year, and have thus gotten to know quite well!

To my surprise though, I found the familiarity of the panel actually helped to put me at ease – and after giving a ten-minute presentation and answering a load of questions, I walked out feeling quite pleased with myself.

Indeed, even if I later discovered that I had hadn’t gotten the job, I wouldn’t have felt too gutted – as I honestly feel I couldn’t have given a better interview.

And if you don’t get a job after giving your best interview … well, it’s obviously not meant to be.

I’m pleased to say though, this one clearly WAS meant to be. For a couple of hours after finishing my interview, I was summoned to the head teacher’s office!

Naturally, this was the sort of instruction that, at one time in my life, would’ve had my sphincter twitching like a rabbit’s nose! Happily though, I turned out to be the recipient of good news this time rather than a bollocking – yes, I’d gotten the job!

Needless to say, I’m VERY excited about it… and also incredibly happy about the fact that, after several years of intense personal upheaval, I now actually have some idea of what the foreseeable future holds for me.

Saying that though, I’m trying hard to stay focused for the time being on my immediate priority… which is to now get my Qualified Teacher Status in the bag. Not unreasonably, this is one of the conditions of the job offer – and there are still a few hoops that I need to jump through over the coming weeks.

Touch wood though, all will be hunky dory on that front…

So then, a pretty amazing week – and in terms of the job offer, it’s something that’s given me an enormous boost in confidence. And having confidence in yourself is absolutely vital if you’re to survive in the cutthroat world of teaching.

Indeed, one thing I have learned about the teaching is that it’s a job where your frailties can be very cruelly exposed. Due to the very nature of the role, you are constantly having to perform – and so when you have a bad day, there’s usually an audience there to witness every single minute.

Okay, so granted, the audience in my case will usually be a ragtag bunch of seven and eight-year-olds.

Nevertheless, with just one bad lesson, you can go from feeling like you’re on top of the world, to feeling like you might as well jack it in and go and work flipping burgers at Maccy Ds.

It truly is a rollercoaster…

Of course though, the school where I’ve been doing my training have seen me warts ‘n’ all – crap lessons included. So the fact that they still believe in me sufficiently to want to keep hold of me for the foreseeable future is incredibly heartening.

Saying that though, since news spread around the school of me having been offered the job, jokes have been abound about my appointment having been for entirely different reasons!

The day after my interview, you see, I was due to go off on a camping trip for four days with a group of around 50 year five children from the school.

Cue a theory from a certain colleague of mine at the school who shall remain nameless..!

“The interview panel thought you were rubbish really,” remarked aforementioned colleague.

“However, they decided they had to give you a job, otherwise you would’ve just been miserable and ruined the year five camp!”

It’s a good job I’ve got a thick skin..!