Ante Meridian

We'll maybe call it a question of motivation. This last week, when I've been off work, I've barely left the house.

It's interesting in a way. I couldn't have what I really wanted and nothing else out there held much appeal this week. I've been out food shopping and that's pretty much it. I've been, if not content, at least accepting of pottering around the house, reading and listening to music. With the occasional DVD thrown in.

I wonder when the verb "to potter" came into its current usage? It's probably out there is some philological website but I can't be arsed to look it up at this time of night. Of the morning, actually.

"Morning". There's a word to conjure with. One morning, which will probably not be before next summer at the earliest, I'm going to sit up all night on a beach, possibly with a picnic and an acoustic guitar, and wait for the sun to rise. To be there to accept the blessing of the day before it becomes tainted. It won't be tonight, though. As I'm back at work next week I should really be getting some kind of a sleep routine going again or Monday is going to be an even ruder shock than usual.

And I guess that includes not blogging at a quarter to two in the morning. There's that m-word again.

Mental Paralysis

Still. Frozen, almost. As immobile as a railing in winter - the kind that your hand tries to stick to because of the frost.

I've tried to get my mind going to post something here but it just hasn't happened. No matter what's happened in the great big, wide, you-betcha world, there's been nothing to come trip-trapping out of the keyboard and onto the page. My mind hasn't really been stirred by the horror of a man's alternative to the democratic process, a voice being finally stilled, or by England winning one of the most exciting Test Matches I remember. My heart has, but not the creative synapses within my addled brain.

So this is now early Wednesday morning on the second week of my holiday. My reason for reason is thousands of miles away and a sultry night is drifting all around me. I'd give a lot for a thunderstorm right now, and I'd sure as certain be going for a walk in it. Yep, sure as certain. Right here and now. Not that it's going to happen. I'd be able to smell it if there was any good Irish rain nearby and I can't so there isn't.

There's the distant sound of cars trundling along. I can hear the occasional student as well. Always students. There's only about three hours out of the 24 that there isn't the sound of students. I remember the days when I could cheerfully have partied until the wee small hours and then functioned satisfactorily the next day. Those days are long gone, now, as are many things that I miss less.

The window is already as wide as it'll go but I'll try to force it a little wider. I'll stand there for a minute or two, hoping to catch a sweet breeze floating down from Airport Hill. And then I'll try to sleep. Again.

Caped

So it's official, now. For two weeks Cape Town is going to be the luckiest city in the world. This Saturday my Pretty Girl flies out there to deliver training until August 6th.

Of course, I'll miss her horribly but I'm very proud of her that she's been asked to go. We could have done with a little more notice and, in an ideal world, another payday before she goes but that's okay too. It is what it is. She has a functioning phone and iPod and I'll install Skype on the computer. I might even dodge over to Heathrow to meet her and accompany her back to her beautiful country.

We're spending as much time together before she goes as is possible. I'm "on holiday" and she's not, but we're finding ways around it. There'll be people out there saying "It's only two weeks! Get over it."

That'd be fair comment for some people but we're one of those nauseating couples who would cheerfully spend every minute of every day together. I can pass round a sick bucket, if it's be easier for you all.

On to other things - I don't know how many of you have found yourselves a Google+ invite. If you haven't and you'd like one, I can probably accommodate friends! That's a caveat, by the way. If anyone I don't know springs out of the woodwork having found their way here by searching for the aforementioned social network and begs an invite they can get knotted!

At some point in the next few days I'll be explaining why it's better than Facebook and Twitter and why I'm liking it so much already. Probably.

Back

So it's been nearly a month since I was here. A lot of that time has been spent doing "the word thing" at work. They pay the bills.

Have I been too drained to blog? Maybe so. Maybe so. I've tried once or twice. Sat here looking at a blank page, without any idea of what to type, without any idea whether it'd be any good if I did. It's very easy just to post links to Facebook or to Google+, the virtual way of saying "Hey, look at this!" without having to elaborate. Those closest to me will attest that I'm hardly a chatterbox.

Sometimes things move me so much that my faltering sentences don't do it justice. You'd have to look into my eyes to know how deeply I'm feeling things. Video-blogging? I don't think so, thanks a million. Not even if it were possible. It might be. Don't know.

What I want to  remember is that I may work with words all week but that doesn't mean that I can't enjoy them when I'm not at work.

I've been fine, thanks for asking. Weary, because I've been working hard. I've had some lovely moments and days with my beautiful girl and I'm always looking forward to the next.

Life is good. I work hard because it's what's needed. I have a future to build and to plan for. There are worse jobs I could be doing.I'd still kind of like to move before winter but it will have to be a pretty special place. The memories I've made in this house have given it a tremendous aura and I'm very content. Stone floors in the depths of winter, though...

It's late so I'm done. The sun will rise tomorrow and I'll be at work. I'll be deeply in love and I'll be back Twirling again in less than a month. Promise.

Happy Monday

Well if the rest of my week's holiday is as enjoyable and relaxing as Monday I shall be a very contented dude.

I'm sat on my bed now with the soft light of an almost full moon drifting in through the window. There have been worse times in my life. It's a very mild night in Cork and kinda peaceful. Goodnight, everyone.

Degrees

So it's suddenly got too hot. It's been building for a couple of days but I've spent them in an air-conditioned building. That's not always a good thing but it was on Thursday and Friday. Today there was nowhere to hide and I've been slowly melting. Even now at twenty past 1 in the morning I'm uncomfortably warm. At least it's an excuse, if I needed one, to be sat up listening to the "new" Rory Gallagher album Notes From San Francisco. Hugely impressive.

As you may have noticed, I haven't been here much recently. I'm very grateful that some of you have getting dropping by, just to see if anything's happening.

I've been in rather a strange head-space. It's far from clinical depression (I've seen that. I know what it looks like), more akin to what Keats called "horrid morbidity of temperament". My bubble of good humour has been very easily pricked and I've taken slights far more to heart than usual. I may just be in need of a break. If that's so, it's good that I have the week after next off work. Apart from one day of it, I have no specific plans. I'll just play it by ear, so to speak.

It's lights out time, I think. Whether I'll be able to settle, remains to be seen. I certainly won't need to snuggle under a duvet tonight!

Not going there

It's been a Goddamned funny day. I woke up feeling convinced that something had happened while I was sleeping that I ought to know about. And I don't just mean that students had pushed next door's bin over or something like that. I was certain, from the second I opened my eyes that something of import had occurred. So much so that before my eyes were even properly clear I was scanning my usual news websites to find out what it was.

Nothing apparent. Yes, there's bloodshed in the Middle-East and financiers being charged with sex-crimes but I wouldn't expect either of these things to seep into my sub-conscious while I'm sleeping. I eventually got up, showered and went out for brunch with friends, still with something nagging at my mind. As an aside, can I say that the brunch was highly enjoyable - good food, good people and it could probably only have been improved if my Pretty Lady had been able to make it.

The people at the brunch know me as a fairly quiet guy so they may not even have noticed that I was a little preoccupied. I was able to push it one side for most of the time I was in company but after I'd kindly been given a lift home it flooded back. I couldn't settle in the house doing anything. I couldn't watch TV, listen to music, read or even attempt to do any work. I tried going for a walk in the hope that the wind in my face and spring flowers in my eyes might help but it was no good. The wind annoyed me and the flowers didn't seem to have their usual lustre.

So I've spent the evening doing what I usually do, but to the unexplained accompaniment of glasses sliding on the draining board, the wood of the bedroom floor feeling strange under my feet and something like an itch that I can't scratch worriting at me.

It's fine, though, Grand, even. It's nearly summertime and they do special discounts on travel to Crazy. It won't cost me an arm and a leg to lose my mind!

Here and now

I'm very, very lucky. In the eyes of one glorious woman, I'm a remarkable man.

As far as the rest of creation is concerned, I'm wholly unremarkable. I'm just a man. I'm good at some things, not so good at others and downright crap at some.

I'm not bad with words occasionally. It often takes me time to think of the order that they should go in though, which is why I'm better with the written word than the spoken one. And I'm good at being alone. I can watch TV, listen to music, amuse myself, talk to to plants, soft toys and myself.

I'm not good at being lonely, though. It'll pass. I'll wake up tomorrow and everything will be all right again. It's not long until Monday and I might even see some friends over the weekend. But here, here and now, I'm lonely. I have a pillow to hug.

Back in the habit

A very beautiful lady pointed out that I haven't blogged for an awful long time. I just checked and it was April 24th. Wow, time flies!

This hasn't been a conscious decision. There've been a couple of times since then when I've meant to post something but I've just never seemed to get around to it. I think I've been missing a bit of "zing" recently. If you'll pardon the cliché, my get up and go got up and went. And it's probably too late tonight to try to get it back.

But I'm getting back into the habit.

A Fine Whine

Ouch! I don't know what I've done but my shoulder is killing me. Not literally, of course, but it's bloody sore. I guess I've pulled something in it somehow. I'll live.

Whatever it is, it can't be down to overexertion as I've had a fairly lazy day. Ibuprofen tomorrow, je pense. Although I can't spend too long wandering around as I have some Work work to do. It doesn't bother me really - I have nothing much better to do and typing is likely to aggravate my shoulder less than ironing. That's my story, anyway!

So I'm going to settle down to sleep and try to aim some good vibes the way of my pains. I know that an aching shoulder is small potatoes compared to what some people have to deal with but like anyone else I tend to focus on my own ills more than those of others. My bad. So enough of the whinging, for tonight at least.

A Small Brain Dump

Last night I slept really well. I was asleep at what you might describe as A Sensible Time and slept through until my alarm went off.

So what's different about tonight, I wonder? I've got a busy day tomorrow and will probably end up working for a fair bit of the weekend, even if I don't go into the office. That's ok too - it's not like I have anything else planned. I could use a sustained run of sleeping well, though. And now of course, I'm a little concerned about being able to get a bus tomorrow. I'd forgotten it was Good Friday. Damn. I can't afford a cab so if there isn't a bus I guess I'm walking.

There must be a way to check on bus times using my mobile. That'll be something to focus my mind in the morning.

I hope it's not raining when I wake, assuming I eventually sleep. Usually I can get a lift but not tomorrow morning. I don't mind - there's a good reason for it and it's not an unpleasant walk. Kind of reminds me of when I first started working there and how far I've come in a little under two years. So that's a good thing right?

I'm sure I'm worrying needlessly. I remember that there are extra buses on Monday morning so I'm sure there'll be something tomorrow. Tiredness doesn't help the anxiety, I guess, so it's time to try to find the path to dreamland again.

Drama King

My apologies to anyone who reads my Facebook status updates. Today was kind of a rollercoaster. By "today" I mean Wednesday, just to clarify as it's after midnight.

I guess that's what the updates are for but I feel a little guilty about dragging you into my dramas. I'm okay, really. It was just a day that started badly and took a while to get it back on track. I'm hoping that I've broken the back of it and that the next two days will be a touch easier on my head.

It's a very mild night in Cork tonight so I hope I'll be able to sleep. I got to spend some lovely time with my Pretty Lady earlier on and I'm hoping that's mellowed me out enough to settle properly. I'll set the sleep timer on my radio and drift of to a little music, I think. Sweet dreams, everyone. I hope you can all snuggle up with your loved one, or at least with the thought of them.

Hoots!

Jeez, I can't believe it's been 10 days! Don't the time fly, even when we're not throwing Alarm Clocks around.

The itching hasn't gone yet. It's moved, which I guess makes it more liveable with but it's getting mighty old, I don't mind telling you. If I could type with a pair of scratch-mitts on, I'd be wearing them 24/7 at the moment.

Today didn't help that. I don't know whether I may have subconsciously invoked it, or been psychologically unprepared for the start of the week but Monday morning hit me straight, smack, plumb between the eyes. Bastard. I reeled but didn't go down (no smutty jokes please!). I hung on for dear life and as the hours rolled on I started to work my way back into things a little. Next time I have to face a Monday I shall bite kick and pull hair.

Since we last spent any time in each other's company I've had a few days away in Scotland with my Pretty Lady. She was asked to go over and deliver some training there and I was able to get time off at short notice to travel with her. I worked from our hotel room while she was away during the day but we got to spend the evenings together, to travel together, to fall asleep and wake up together. I may even find a picture to add to the end of this post later.

Or I may not, depending on my mood.

Scratches

Whether it's stress, that I'm "run down" or whether it's just because, I feel like a mass of irritations at the moment.

Not psychological ones, for the most part - I mean that I itch.

I got several good suggestions for ways to treat it from friends this evening, so I'll start to try some of those out. It is actually driving me crazy, and it's far from being an attractive look. Not even I can wear this one well!

I don't have much to say here tonight, especially given the hour. I just wanted to check in to let anyone who passes know that I'm still here, still standing. Not literally standing, of course. That would make the whole typing thing a little more difficult than it needs to be. And thank God I'm not employed for my typing skills, that's all I can say on the subject.

Okay then, the time is now tomorrow morning o'clock so I'm going to snuggle down into my pillow and go in search of sweet dreams. With any luck, gentle reader, the next time I write here, it'll be something that merits reading a little more.

Heads!

Why are so many things positioned at head height?

I understand that it's the best height for some things, I really do, although I can't think of any at the moment. Mirrors, I suppose. Anyway. I'm talking about things that seem intended as booby traps. Like the overhead "racks" on coaches. They're not big enough to put anything other than a coat on, and the coaches that run out to the airport specifically ask you not to put bags on them. The bloody great things almost loom out into the aisles, though and yes, before you ask, I hit my head on one today.

That was less painful and less embarrassing than the first knock I took, though. The canteen at work has two sinks for employees to use to wash up their mugs etc. Over each is a plastic holder for a large "kitchen roll" type thing. And they're positioned at about head height. See where I'm going with this one? They don't have to be anywhere near reachable with one's head. If they were behind the sinks then it'd take a pretty serious effort to crack your forehead off one, rather than just being a little dopey first thing, chatting while reaching for roll and not really paying attention.

There's no need for it. I'm just sayin'...

The Light Of A Candle

I can be strong. I can listen while someone rants and vents. My shoulders are strong enough to bear the weight of other people's upset. Don't get me wrong though, I'm no saint and I'm no superman. Sometimes the most unexpected things bring tears sparking to my eyes.

Today my Pretty Lady and I went out for eats after work. We were just chatting and joking over our meal. I'd had trouble hearing her all the time we were there until the waitress put a new candle on our table. Suddenly I could hear. Astonishing. Polly smiled and told me it was because the candle was a "magic listening candle". I felt my face twist, just a little, and suddenly everything was blurred. It was just the right balance of magical, mystical, childlike (in a very good way) and funny that I could hardly believe it. Just one of the many, many reasons that I love her.

She's working from home for the rest of the week - a well-deserved break from the commute, anyway. I'll miss her loads until I see her on Friday evening but I'll cope.

So I'm back on the buses for the rest of the week. Not a problem. I'll need to be up and out of the house at an early hour but that's okay too.

I'm thoroughly enjoying my new phone. I was right to go for the HTC Desire. I'm slowly finding out more and more about what it's capable of. It really is like carrying a computer around in my pocket. My two latest discoveries are from the Android Market app store. First up, the perfect news reading application - World Newspapers, which is just what I've been looking for. More of a "toy" is the Google Sky Map app. You just point your phone at the sky, and it will shows the stars, planets,
constellations, and more to help you identify the celestial objects in view. Very cool.

Right then, as I need to be up in the morning, I'd better try to get some sleep. Sweet dreams, everyone. I hope that theres a light in all your lives, like there is in mine.

The Day Of Rest?

Surreality? Surrealness? Something like that anyway. All my sensibilities are still outraged at a young girl, fun of fun and laughter, with a four year-old daughter, lying dead in a wooden box. All the crosses and candles in the world won't bring her back to see her daughter off on her first day at school. So sad.

In the nearly two years I've been in Ireland, I've rarely felt as much a foreigner as I did today. My ignorance of Catholic services is clearly a gap in my education but the removal today felt very alien to me. More accurately, I felt very alien to it. Not knowing any of the responses due to the Priest, I kept a respectful silence. It's not for me to show disrespect to anyone's beliefs or traditions. And all the time that box is sat in front of all of us.

I guess that none of know what any day, any moment may bring. For myself, I'll do what I always do - I'll live as best I can by my own lights. I'll work as hard as I know how, I'll treat others as I'd like for them to treat me (unless doing so becomes the equivalent of banging my head on the proverbial brick wall, in which case I'll shrug and leave them to their own devices) and I'll follow my heart.

For many people the most important question that they are ever asked, and the question they spend their lives in answering, is "How would you like to be remembered?"

For me, there is an easy one-word answer. It's the one I gave when I was first asked the question and I've never wavered: fondly.

The Dance

It's been a funny old week. I only worked for three days of it but seemed to fit an awful lot into those days. I'm still finding my feet in some aspects of the job and am maybe over-compensating a little and throwing myself at everything. I possibly need to step back and chill a little.

I'd booked Thursday and Friday off as holiday at short notice. I figured I've now been in Ireland long enough to celebrate St Patrick's Day with the locals, so strolled down to the parade in the city. It was a good vibe. Everyone seemed to be a happy mood so I wandered around for a while, fussed some random dogs, had a couple of pints and went home again.

My Lady was able to finish early on Friday and we went out for a late lunch and spent some time together. It was a little strange, to be honest. Friday lunchtime we'd received the shocking news that one of the girls at work had been killed in a car crash. I can't claim to have known the girl well but I liked her. The last time we spoke was on my birthday. Someone in her department had a birthday as well and they had cake, When she found it was my birthday too I got an e-mail from her inviting me down for a slice. She always had a smile and a joke for everyone. There'll be an Aoife-shaped hole in the building's heart from now on.

It's the first time that my Lady and I have dealt with a loss like this together. She was a huge support to me when my brother passed away in 2008 but that was hardly unexpected, this is different. So we've been learning the steps to the saddest of dances - the mourning, grieving dance. Learning to step lightly and thoughtfully, not hiding feelings and minding raw edges. It's not easy but we managed it.

On a lighter note, the moon is nearer to the earth than it's been for years, apparently. After several beautiful, clear, early spring nights in a row, I had hopes of being able to gaze at it for a while but the Irish weather has had other ideas. It's been raining most of the day and tonight the rain has brought along its good buddy Thick Fog for a visit. So no Moon bathing for me tonight!

Oh balls!

It sounded kind of tasty. "Roasted Irish Beef Meatballs with Chilli, served with Steamed Rice", although the random capitalisation is all my own work.

The rice was good and the chilli sauce was very tasty. The problem entirely centred on the meatballs. Precisely what part of Irish cattle these things came from, I shudder to think. No please, don't say it. You'll make me gag again.

Things had started swimmingly. I was enjoying lunch and everyone around me who had gone for the same option seemed to be enjoying them too. I went to cut into another meatball and found something that resisted my knife. Strongly. Magnificently, I chose that exact moment to find that the meatball I was currently chewing had something of the same consistency about it.

So I'm sat in the middle of a crowded canteen and what I really want to do is spit the damned thing out. Clearly this wasn't going to happen. Making no further attempt at all to chew, I swallowed and then gulped down most of a bottle of Lucozade. I enjoyed the rest of the rice and even managed to smile at those around me and make a few ghastly attempts to join in the conversation. Whatever was in the half-meatball left on my plate, and in the one I'd bravely swallowed has been haunting me all afternoon though. I wouldn't go so far as to use the expression "waves of nausea" but there were certainly gentle ripples of it.

See now I'm typing it, it's happening again! I really, really need to stop thinking about the day the canteen served bollocks for lunch!

Bonsai!

It was my birthday on Friday. After getting some advice from a certain lovely lady, the rest of my team presented me with, amongst other things including Lemon Cake, this beautiful specimen...

I'd been saying for some time that I wanted a plant for my desk but I never imagined that I'd end up with such a beautiful Bonsai. He's sat on my desk at work and I have named him Robert. Robert Plant - geddit??

I'm hoping that he's been okay over the weekend. I made sure that he was fed and watered but I feel kinda guilty about having left him there when we'd only just met. One of colleagues was in over the weekend and was given strict instructions to make sure he was okay, and to chat to him a little. So, first thing in the morning it'll be coffee for me and my pretty girl, water for Robert.