Ice and Pronouns

The course was starting at 9am. The child and I managed to burst out of the front door at 8:30am; I thought I was doing well. I strapped the child into her car seat and started my car to give the engine time to warm up. I then commenced scraping the ice off all the windows. Once I had done that I was faced with the task of moving the husband's car, which he had kindly parked behind mine. His car was also totally iced up and does not start well in cold weather. I revved and stalled and revved and stalled the car down the driveway, navigating by leaning out of the door so I could see, and finally managed to get it into the street. Meanwhile the child had got out of her seat and was crying because my car "was bumping"- it had choked and stalled. I started the car again and we set off, stopped to clear the windscreen and drove away again. It was 8:50am. After ditching the child at school I hammered the poor, old car to Uni and attempted to find the building and car park I needed amongst the campus labyrinth. I arrived at reception at 9:05am, pretty good going I thought. I then had to wait 5 minutes for the receptionist to get off the phone so I could find out which room I was supposed to be in. She directed me along a path, around a corner, up some stairs and to the tutorial room. The door was locked. I walked to the other door, which was also locked, but was able to get the attention of the people in the room. I was let in and I apologised for being late. Of course, there were no notebooks or pens left so the tutor had to faff around organising something for me. Finally I sat down to begin learning. My phone rang. I jumped up, apologised and left the room. After explaining to my co-worker that I wasn't in the lab that day and they would have to deal with the issue on their own I switched my phone to silent and returned to my seat. Then I started sneezing. I sat there, sneezing, thinking "these people all hate me". My suspicions were confirmed during the day as my attempts to make jokes during the class went ignored. I considered dismantling my pen and firing spit balls at the tutor but decided against it.
So two days later I am now well informed on the intricacies of the correct grammar of the English language. I now know when to hyphenate compounded adjectives and what a split infinitive is. I know that it's ok to end a sentence with a preposition and how to use a semicolon. I can identify an attributive adjective and a past participle. It's all very interesting. No, really! And best of all, I got a certificate.
During the course I pondered on how amazing it is that most of us know absolutely nothing about correct grammar, yet we manage to speak and write clearly anyway. I guess it's like a car – you don't have to know how the internal combustion engine works in order to drive one around. I don't think my new found knowledge will improve the quality of my blog (sorry) but it may make me ever so slightly more pompous, which I am quite pleased about. It is one of my goals in life to become completely arrogant and pompous. I also aspire to become (even more) eccentric, have long, unkempt hair, cackle loudly at inappropriate moments and be able to frighten small children with just a look. The fact that I can work towards at least one of these goals by attending a course paid for by my employer and attended during working hours is pure gold.
In other news, I have applied some of my laboratory knowledge to solving what has become a daily problem: removing ice from the car's windscreen. Scraping at it potentially scratches your windscreen and leaves icy residue. Pouring hot water on a frozen sheet of glass is sheer stupidity. The solution? A spray bottle full of metho: metho melts the ice and stops it refreezing. Sure you go to work smelling like a wino, but at least you can see clearly on your way there.
So my life is improving. I can construct a passive clause containing a modifying adverb and I can clear the ice off my windscreen. Wooo Hoo!