The ‘Other’ Internet

It’s 11pm. It’s been another long day: my alarm went off at 6, I was at work by 7.30. I taught a full day of lessons (teenagers really take it out of you, you know; they’re so bloody angsty) and then finished off my day with a meeting. At home I had books to mark, lessons to plan and reports to write.

I crawl into bed, shattered. It’s long past time for me to switch the lights off and drift into a heavy sleep, plagued with dreams of spreadsheets, PowerPoint presentations and children bleating the word ‘Miss’ over and over and over again as if their life depended on it.

Eyes drooping, I switch off the lights and reach out to shut my laptop. My hand is halfway to the screen when I pause. Frozen in mid-air, it gives a slight twitch and then retreats. My fingers on autopilot, I deftly key in ctrl + shift + N.

Welcome, my friends, to the other internet.

As Captain Barbossa would say, ‘Here there be monsters’.

Oh, and porn.

It’s 12.30. I really am going to sleep now.