I'm in the mood to whinge, so here's an infuriating little incident. Last week, one of the kids at rehearsal asked, "Which grade are you?! Are you in Year 12?"

Stunned, I looked at the child who was an inch taller than I am. "I'm not in school. I left school."

She turned to Thea, confused. "She isn't in Year 12?"

Thea said, "She left school ages ago."

"Nooo, that can't be. She can't have left school. She looks ... "

"I've left school, sweetie. For goodness sakes, I'll be teaching here next term!"

"You are?!! No way!!"

Another infuriating incident, this time at work - on the same day.

The kids, from a primary school, were milling all around me. I was wearing a blue rugby top, the kids their own blue school jumpers. My boss, wandering from the tea room back to the office stopped and looked taken aback for a minute. She approached me, "For a while there, I thought you were one of them, " and waved towards the kids. "They're all taller than you!"

By the time I joined a few people for dinner that night, I was growling. They were not symphathetic, though. They reckon being tiny and having this face that does not age are assets. I disagree. No one takes me seriously enough, as it is. Do you think my students would?

Bah.

I'm going to a 21st tonight. I'll be 24 in a month and a bit, and I'm still going to 21sts.

"You think that's lame? I'm going to weddings!" said my boss. "Now, that's scary."