Monday I decide to wear my pink shirt and pinstripe suit. The suit has a skirt, which means I'll have to wear tights and proper shoes. That'll make my feet hurt, but it's about time I had a change from trousers. Everyone asks me where I'm going, or if we are having visitors.
Tuesday I wear trousers, flat shoes, big jumper and a coat for my playground duty. I venture out tentatively to be met by the masses who jump in the puddles and slip on the mud.
Wednesday I'm at a literacy co-ordinators' conference. As I'm the literacy co-ordinator I'm allowed out wearing a different hat (so to speak). I decide that I would like to go dressed as a person, not as a headteacher. Someone might talk to me. I wear a pink rugby top and cut-off trousers and sit at a table with three people I don't know. At one point, the consultant says: "These documents have been sent out to headteachersI that's right, isn't it, Val?" She looks at me. So do the other literacy consultants - so much for the disguise. Back at school I feel unprofessional as I show the builders round the junior classrooms. Sadly, they don't notice my casual look.
Thursday I see the sun briefly so I decide to wear a dress. Bad move. "Mrs Woollven, Mrs Woollven, you're wearing a dress. I like your sandals. I can see your toes." I make a hasty exit, without falling over my heels. Perhaps children shouldn't see my toes, perhaps it's not professional. Back to trousers then.
Friday I'm working at home and start at 6am when all is quiet - I'm in my dressing gown. I tackle the staff handbook before showering and changing into jeans and do well until the phone rings at 9am. Zach is refusing to go to his classroom again. I change into my pinstripes and set off for school.
Val Woollven is head of St Andrew's C of E primary school, Plymouth