I took this pic last summer at my parents’ house. My brother had had a party the night before, and clearly decided to be responsible about the recycling. Or else there’s a better story. Any ideas?
Yoga last night, and a walk on the beach today (along with a slight improvement in the sleeping) have helped. And I haven’t ticked much off the list, but I have done some of it We’re all alright.
And now, it’s time to shoot some zombies.
You know those montages in silly Hollywood movies where one character lets themselves go completely and sits around watching daytime tv and eating cereal and wearing pyjamas/tracksuits all day with messy hair and an ever-expanding waistline? That’s me. For the past four and a half months, since my contract wasn’t renewed at the place were I worked and loved it, I’ve been a Hollywood stereotype. And yes, I’m listening to Rachmaninov’s second piano concerto at the moment too. And looking off into space while I try to figure out why I haven’t done a single thing on my to-do list for the day.
That’s right, I’m not so far gone that I didn’t have a list, but it’s a list that gets longer and longer, as my finger gets longer and longer. I’ve put off so much that normality now lives over a mountain of unfinished, undealt-with, unappetising STUFF. Dentists, doctors, pensions, driving licences. Things that would only take a moment to actually organise. And the overhanging imperative that never really goes away either – GET A JOB.
I got depressed, you see. It had been looming all summer, but September hit, and my hopeful assertions that I’d have a chance to do all the things I’d been meaning to, and maybe travel, but be back at work before Christmas… they all fell by the wayside as listlessly checking the internet for someone responding to my dwindling posts/messages and staying awake well into the night and asleep well into the day took over.
I decided in December that I’d had enough. I went to the doctor and got myself some anti-depressants. Feeling like I was doing the right thing buoyed me up and carried me over the festive season, but now that January is getting ready to move into February, I realise that I’ve slipped again. The insomnia that is part legacy of my depression, part side-effect of the anti-depressants is getting worse, and all of my good intentions vanish again each day as I try to grab some kind of sleep, that ends up beginning when most people get up, and lasting until lunchtime.
It’s getting dark now. I feel like writing these words has accomplished something, but I’m really just kidding myself, and putting off the climb to normality yet again. But how do you start that climb when you can’t rest up and prepare? Is it just setting myself up for failure yet again?
I’m going to tick off one thing on my list today that is a one-off must-do task. Then try one tomorrow as well. And I’m going to try to get some sleep. We’ll see what happens after that.
Colmmacc is really as good at cropping photos as he is at taking them. We were driving around Galway at the weekend, and I was snapping away as he drove. He’s put some of my snaps up on his flickr, and I’m surprised at how well some of them turned out. Maybe I should by a *cough* SLR *cough*
The whole shoe painting idea that I suggested for Sunday got shunted to one side as I became the chick in shining armour at work (yet again) and went to Dublin to stand in for the regular producer on one of my programmes. This meant I missed out on the Summer (yes, kids, the Irish summer was on Sunday) but I did get to meet on of the absolute legends of Irish television, Mr. Jimmy McGee. He’s awful lovely!
Choir’s been cancelled today, which is a good thing, because I’m practically delirious with hormones today, and I won’t be at rehearsal again til mid-June at this stage. I’m going to miss it so much. Anyone interested in trying a barbershop quartet to tide me over? I’ll sing whatever you like so long as I can sing!
Tomorrow, I was looking forward to going to Stitch’n'Bitch (That’s still going on in the Old Quarter of a Tuesday evening) and finishing off my soon-to-be-lovely bag in the company of some knittery fiends, but yet again work is ruining everything. This time I’m headed to Galway for some work in the vicinity of the Volvo Ocean Race. Hopefully I’ll at least be able to spend some quality time with Galway peoples
I was supposed to be going to a wedding this weekend too, but that’s also not happening.
Seriously, kids… what’s going on?
I’m off to Barcelona for the weekend after next, and I’m dreading the thought that something’s going to happen to scupper those plans too. I’m deliberately leaving my Bank Holiday Weekend unplanned, so that nobody can ruin it!
That’s the plan anyway…
I’ve been on a real ‘making crap’ kick lately. I’ve not felt like buying stuff, and am really getting into making gifts for people. This is the last one I made, for le boy’s birthday, which is on Thursday.
He seems to like it too, which I was sort of hoping for, given his penchant for geeky clocks and the colour green. In fact, I enjoyed making this so much that I’m tempted to buy a bunch of mechanisms on ebay and go crazy making clocks. I could even sell them, if I got good
Anyway, in other news, I was contemplating having a shoe-painting party on Saturday in my place. You know those fabric plimsol thingies with pictures/patterns on them that you can buy in shoe shops for €30? Well, buy yourself a pair of plain white ones for a fiver in Dunnes and call over to my gaff. I’ll stump up a bunch of fabric paint and we’ll all be trez chiquita for minimal bucks.
Anyone interested? Drop me a comment/message
I am still in bed after the weekend. I pity those that had to get up to travel/get flights etc.
Initial reactions over the weekend were that it was lovely, lovely, lovely to see all of these people again, the day of the conference itself went very well, the nights went better, and that I should have gotten more sleep on friday night.
Also, CAKE!! (pic by colmmacc)
Edited: I didn’t bake the cake, just bought one with plain white icing and drew the stuff on top
This is Socks. She’s been my dog for the last 13 years. She was very small, very cute, very mono-ocular, very snuggly and very smelly from time to time. She loved begging for food, going for walks, sleeping and whoring round the neighbours for food, walks and cuddles. When it was time for dinner, she would run up and down our hall, doing 360-degree spins of excitement and grunting with joy. She was too small to jump up on laps and couches much of the time, but loved being picked up and tucked under your arm.
She’s been missing since Wednesday, and today we found her body in a nearby stream. Mum thinks she ate rat poison. I think she just fell in and couldn’t get out. Either way, it was not the way she deserved to go. I’ll miss her a lot.
PS. She HATED the eyepatch in this photo
Nicely put. I have an urge to retaliate by calling him Poop Benedick, but that would be offensive to people who actually think that this man is infallible. Does he have any idea of the effect that pronouncements like this can have on the lives of people already finding it diffiicult to be accepted as they are by religious families? The obvious answer is yes, and that he wants to persuade people into denial and misery in order to convince himself that homosexuality hasn’t been around since heterosexuality.
Merry Christmas, freaks and gayers. Aren’t you glad that noone pays attention to the fucker anyway? I mean, who bothers about saving the rainforest anyway?
So, I’m older than I was… the year counter racheted up one more notch on Sunday. The entire weekend was spent celebrating, which was kind of nice… I think I like the thoughts of a birthday weekend. There was choir, and guinness, and dancing in awful clubs, and hangovers, and journeys and opera and hugs and friends and more alcohols, and passing out on a buddabag like the olden days, and food and food and food and singing, and karaoke booths and cocktails.
Honestly, I don’t think I could have asked for a better weekend. Thanks so much to all who sent messages via text and here on facebook, and who showed up at the Long Stone, or Doyles, or Bia Bar, or the Mongolian BBQ or Karaoke
In fact, asides from absent friends, the only thing missing was a cake. (yes, i’m still banging on about this)