I wake up an hour before my alarm goes off.

I’m not sure why, but it’s been happening for a year now. A good night’s sleep ain’t what it used to be.

It’s probably due to leading a school through a pandemic: the fear of positive cases, the madness of contact tracing, the neverending sanitisation of just about everything and trying to ensure four- and-five-year olds socially distance.

I get up and get dressed. I slip on my mask, too - the must-have fashion accessory of the year - and then drive to school, the journey rushing by in the blink of an eye.

Lonely lunches ahead

As I drive in, I am reminded on the radio that it’s World Teachers’ Day and I reminisce about simpler times when I used to be one - a classroom teacher, that is.

Now, as a leader, it’s my job to be leading the celebration.

I think of the free lunch I have organised for staff for the day in honour of all their hard work: lukewarm canteen food in a sanitised paper bag, collected from the staffroom at socially distanced intervals, to be eaten alone.

What a treat!

A free daily temperature check

Ali, our security guard, is on the gate and receives my first mask-muffled words of the day: a hearty good morning and a smile. (I hope he is guessing that it’s a smile, anyway.)

I enter the building, sanitise my hands and have my core temperature taken by a facial recognition camera. I’m a steady 36.2 degrees. A free daily temperature check - a silver lining, perhaps.

I sit down at my desk, switch on my computer and listen to the talking temperature checker in the distance, robotically telling staff with young children coming into work after me to “please wear a mask!”.

Big Brother is watching, but is benevolent, I suppose. 

Gate duty and football scores

Next, it’s gate duty.

As I watch thermal images of everyone as they enter the school to check their temperatures, I try to make it fun by pretending I can see what the early years students had for their breakfast and calling out good morning to the older students.

Discussions with a colleague on the gate quickly turn to the recent football scores after Manchester United were mauled 6-1 by Tottenham and Liverpool lost 7-2 to Aston Villa.

Nothing seems to make any sense anymore, we say, only half in jest.

Anything but normal

The next job for the day is a Covid health and safety site walk with SLT.

It’s easy to presume that the regulations set at the beginning of the year are all still being followed.

But, as with anything, there is always slippage. It’s best to keep ahead of the game and the only way to do that is to check thoroughly and check often.

It’s hard not to reflect that what were once regular learning walks, observing children engaged in active and collaborative learning have now become observing children socially distanced on spots on the floor, ensuring limited collaboration and active learning, no soft furnishings in the environment and keeping four-year-olds apart.

No sign of the nurse

Soon it’s lunchtime and I realise I haven’t heard from the school nurse, which is always a good sign.

Seeing her name flash up on my phone brings with it the same sense of dread as would an ex-partner calling you. You don’t want to answer because you are worried about what they might say, but you know you have to, just in case.

I know she feels the same when I ring her - we’ve talked it through and we understand one another. Not talking means it’s a good day with no dramas. That’s a rare day these days, though. If only Covid hadn’t got in the way of our healthy relationship. 

But today is a no-call day. No new cases. No close contacts. So far, so good.

Afternoon meetings 

After lunch, meetings for the afternoon include discussions about transforming indoor and outdoor spaces into places where staff can meet and socially distance during their limited breaks, and a place where we can record live videos and events to share with parents.

This is a fun bit of the day as it feels like we are trying to do something positive.

However, there are also concerns to be discussed about how we can reduce staff workload, develop the digital platforms we may want to use to make our online learning provision even better and the increased IT hardware we need to do it.

At JESS, we are fortunate, though: the school will support this. I worry for other schools, other staff and other children.

Time for tea

Soon, the day is done. I drive home and, once back, it’s clothes in the wash, a prison-like hose down and on to Daddy duty: a quick play of stickle bricks, 30 minutes in the park, prevent my son from putting his fingers into plug sockets, clean food off the walls, say no (a lot) and after a late dinner, it’s time for bed.

I check the SLT group chat and it’s good to read feedback that our children and parents have really embraced World Teachers’ Day too, showing their gratitude with cards, vouchers, presents and cake.

I should call it a night there and then, but as a last pointless activity I head to Twitter and see that Geoff Barton, general secretary of the Association of School and College Leaders (ASCL), has tweeted a quote by E Joseph Cossman: “The best bridge between despair and hope is a good night’s sleep”.

Here’s hoping, Geoff!

Asa Firth is headteacher at JESS Jumeirah in Dubai