Well, it had to end sometime. I am now back to work.
This is not as hideous as it could be, but it is like, JOKES trying to pump milk at work. So far I have combed all the staff toilets looking for plug sockets “just on the off-chance,” commandeered an office at lunchtime which then turned out to have a huge window looking out onto a building site, not to mention the students knocking at the door looking for the office’s usual occupant; left various parts of the breast pump in the dishwasher and, most ridiculously of all, temporarily lost a crucial part of the pump, a piece of plastic tubing. The latter led to a wild goose chase around every Currys and Maplin in the vicinity hollering at baffled teenage shop assistants about how I needed a replacement breast pump tube and did they stock them in here?
Luckily the tubing turned up just as I had given it up for lost and was on the verge of purchasing a new pump (I should probably add that the pump does not even belong to me), and I was so delighted that I nearly ran around the school holding it above my head in triumph.
Other than that, things have been fairly quiet. Piglet is always glad to see me when I pick him up at the end of the day; usually spending the entire journey home headbutting my chest and wailing. I’m sure what he actually sees when he looks at me is a giant boob full of forbidden milk, which to be honest is pretty much how I feel by the end of the day, especially if my one trusted pumping room has been hogged by the bloody careers advisor all day.