It Gets Into Your Head

I promise Jemima will get to have her say soon, but I just wanted to interrupt for a minute to recount something which I think shows just how much extended role play can get into your head.

On the last day of Finishing School, we were in the middle of the afternoon, taking afternoon tea in the music room, when the three of us who were supposed to be flying home that night got called out, and told that due to the snowy conditions, and known road closures, we would be leaving in 30 minutes, rather than the 2h30 minutes that had originally been the plan. This meant that we had to drop out of role immediately to go and pack.

Thus it was Eliane and not Jemima who rushed back into the music room to pick something up. In my head I had pretty much straight away dropped out of character to enable myself to deal with the practicalities of quick packing, and the worry of the drive to the airport (though in the capable hands of Zille's heroic husband, I didn't need to worry at all).

So it was practical, sensible me going into that room, in a rush, not dizzy, silly Jemima. But as I ran through the room over to a table to pick something up, it felt so terribly, terribly wrong. Running through rooms in Mrs Darling's Academy? In front of the guests? I know it sounds silly, but it really did feel as though I was committing some major and severe offence. It really is amazing how in the course of less than 48 hours, I had started inhabiting my role and the situation so fully that something that wouldn't make me even pause for a second normally felt so alien and naughty.

Of course, this didn't stop me coming back downstairs, out of my uniform, ready to head off, in a Little Miss Bad Tshirt, and Little Miss Bossy knickers, which I proceeded to show to everyone! What can I say? Jemima made me do it.