We did it. Just about. But was it worth it? The jury's still out on that one...
No, it's not colonic irrigation I am talking about. Nor plucking a chicken, shoe-shopping with Sophie, combing Emma's hair, or climbing Mount Everest. I speak of one of life's rather simple tasks, which has become something it should not be: a nightmare of gigantic proportions. Yes, you've guessed it: Christmas shopping.
I will not go into the commercial nature that is now Christmas, nor the fact that we are in the midst of a recession, and Ireland is one of the worst-hit countries in Europe, yet spends over €1000 per capita on presents, getting itself even more into debt...
All I want to talk about it the craziness that is Grafton Street, Henry Street, Jervis Street, Dundrum Town Centre - you name it - on the second Saturday in December.
Maybe it was because of the big freeze we had for the last 12 days or so, and when the thaw set in, it we swarmed to the shops in droves, afraid that stocks would deplete before we even entered our first store. All I can say is: Oh My God!
People rushing. People pushing. Grumpy faces everywhere. Children crying. Children standing next to their parents with bored expressions on their faces. Husbands standing next to their wives with pained expressions on their faces. Wives standing next to scores of women at the bargain baskets, with I'm-ready-to-go-into-battle faces, but it was difficult to discern whether it was a) out of pure pain not knowing what to pick, and for whom, but definitely not letting that bargain pass them by; b) due to the pain of having maxed yet another credit card; or c) due to the pain in their right foot as another, pointier, woman's heel dug itself deeper into its rival's foot - who was she to grab that bargain from under her nose!
It was bedlam. And that was just the first shop.
And some shops were obviously trying different things, new things, to lure in the shoppers or evoke that Christmas spirit. But it didn't always work. Take, for example, a well-known store strategically situated at the top of Grafton street. Oh, sod it, you all know which one I mean: Brown Thomas. The window decorations were gorgeous. The special offers were sparkling. And then we looked up, when, after 2 weeks of chaos on our roads, freezing pipes, waterless houses and mass hospitalisations, some bright spark in the marketing department of said store decides to plant a snow machine right above the main double doors, and it starts spouting out some more of the white stuff.
I had to laugh when I heard one young blonde say to her rather efflorescent red-haired friend in the most brilliant Dublin accent:
"Ah, here. As if we hadn't enough of dat - more snow? Are they flamin jokin? The fecking eejits, we'll all run a mile..."
And I decided to keep that smile on my face, turn to John, who was just trying to read the list of presents we still had to get for aunts, cousins, friends and neighbours, whilst being tugged in the direction of a group of young people playing a rather impressive version of "Jingle Bells"...
"Do you know what, John? Let's go grab lunch somewhere and then just get one or two things today... and then go home. What's the point of subjecting ourselves to this when we can do most of our shopping online?"
I know, it might be the end of foot to door retail as we know it. But most mortals I know are unable to withstand the torture of this bedlam without a tantrum. And this is NOT what Christmas is supposed to be about.
I say: Jump in, soak up the atmosphere and get out again before your hurt yourself.
Happy Christmas you all. I'll be on again in a few days...
Amy x
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Friday, December 10, 2010
Day 34 - The Friday of "No"s
No phone call.
I didn't expect it, not really.
No appointments this afternoon. For a change.
No running to the dentist, or Mary's, or one of the girl's little friends, or the library to bring back overdues, or the shop for last minute forgettables, or the bank, or playing Mummy's taxi for the various extracurricular activities.
No homework.
No late evening work commitments for John.
No cooking - take-out is king.
No rules - well, almost. We do away with the two-hour-max-TV-rule on a Friday.
No clean-up - all dishes, tea cups, you name it, stay firmly on top of the dishwasher today.
No madness. At least not today.
For we are venturing into town tomorrow and Sunday to brave the Christmas rush. It has to be done. Which means I won't be blogging until Sunday night, I will just be too exhausted.
Keep your fingers crossed our feet are not run black and blue with the slush fest that now is Dublin. And that we do not go over our budget that we have set for the Christmas this year.
Brace yourselves... here we come.
I didn't expect it, not really.
No appointments this afternoon. For a change.
No running to the dentist, or Mary's, or one of the girl's little friends, or the library to bring back overdues, or the shop for last minute forgettables, or the bank, or playing Mummy's taxi for the various extracurricular activities.
No homework.
No late evening work commitments for John.
No cooking - take-out is king.
No rules - well, almost. We do away with the two-hour-max-TV-rule on a Friday.
No clean-up - all dishes, tea cups, you name it, stay firmly on top of the dishwasher today.
No madness. At least not today.
For we are venturing into town tomorrow and Sunday to brave the Christmas rush. It has to be done. Which means I won't be blogging until Sunday night, I will just be too exhausted.
Keep your fingers crossed our feet are not run black and blue with the slush fest that now is Dublin. And that we do not go over our budget that we have set for the Christmas this year.
Brace yourselves... here we come.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Day 33 - The old bird
I rang the agency again today. You know, the one that called me about that other job in the first place, the one that managed to get me that interview. For the job I didn't get. But that's beside the point. My point is, they have a pretty good success rate with me, 1:1 ain't bad.
So I spoke to Anne, my new best friend, and discussed my employment opportunitites, based on the experience I bring to the table. A euphemism for saying, well, let's see if an old bird like you can still cut the mustard.
And as luck would have it, she had this other job spec in, just today. Hot off the press. Fresh from the farmer's garden. And she is going to put me forward for it. She believes I tick pretty much all the boxes - her words, not mine.
So then I rang Mary. Of course she always brings me back down to earth with a rather large bang: "Now Amy, that's great, but you know, you don't have the interview just yet... Just don't hope too hard, you know, in case you don't get it..."
Somewhat deflated we continue our conversation about her wrist, her love of people of the coal, and Rory the Wonderful, whom, she has assured me, she would like to bed. Honestly Mary, he is married with a 2-year old son. Have you no shame??
To which she replies in all honesty: "No."
On my way home, I ring John. He is far more encouraging and it reminds me that in my hour of need (I need to hear something nice) I should really remember that, when all is said and done, my husband is my number one best friend.
So I spoke to Anne, my new best friend, and discussed my employment opportunitites, based on the experience I bring to the table. A euphemism for saying, well, let's see if an old bird like you can still cut the mustard.
And as luck would have it, she had this other job spec in, just today. Hot off the press. Fresh from the farmer's garden. And she is going to put me forward for it. She believes I tick pretty much all the boxes - her words, not mine.
So then I rang Mary. Of course she always brings me back down to earth with a rather large bang: "Now Amy, that's great, but you know, you don't have the interview just yet... Just don't hope too hard, you know, in case you don't get it..."
Somewhat deflated we continue our conversation about her wrist, her love of people of the coal, and Rory the Wonderful, whom, she has assured me, she would like to bed. Honestly Mary, he is married with a 2-year old son. Have you no shame??
To which she replies in all honesty: "No."
On my way home, I ring John. He is far more encouraging and it reminds me that in my hour of need (I need to hear something nice) I should really remember that, when all is said and done, my husband is my number one best friend.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Day 32 - Mary had a little fall
I called in to Mary today. She slipped on the ice and sprained her wrist.
She is reluctant to go out now and rang me when I had just dropped off the girls, and of course I went round straight away. Knowing that she would probably not have much in the house, I brought her bread, milk and the essential chocolate biscuits, plus a couple of other bits and pieces.
I was sacrificing the time I had set aside to review those cover letters before I sent them off but I didn't tell her this, of course - she was feeling bad enough as it was. It is when thing like this happen to her that she feels especially alone, and I just want to be there for her. Let's face it, Fiona is far too wrapped up in her own troubles, or at least, she thinks she has troubles, to think of anyone else. And Sharon, though she can talk a lot and be very sympathetic, does not necessarily show her compassion through her actions...
After the school run I called back to Mary with the girls, to cheer her up a bit and get her mind off things. We stayed for about an hour, then I had to run home and make the chicken casserole I had set out to cook all morning while the girls did their homework. Then there was ironing, and bedtime, and countless other tasks that we do every evening...
It is well past ten now and I finally have time to sit down in front of my laptop - sorry, John, that squary thing you see with arms and legs, clackety-clacking away next to you, that's your wife!!! I will talk to you tomorrow, promise!
She is reluctant to go out now and rang me when I had just dropped off the girls, and of course I went round straight away. Knowing that she would probably not have much in the house, I brought her bread, milk and the essential chocolate biscuits, plus a couple of other bits and pieces.
I was sacrificing the time I had set aside to review those cover letters before I sent them off but I didn't tell her this, of course - she was feeling bad enough as it was. It is when thing like this happen to her that she feels especially alone, and I just want to be there for her. Let's face it, Fiona is far too wrapped up in her own troubles, or at least, she thinks she has troubles, to think of anyone else. And Sharon, though she can talk a lot and be very sympathetic, does not necessarily show her compassion through her actions...
After the school run I called back to Mary with the girls, to cheer her up a bit and get her mind off things. We stayed for about an hour, then I had to run home and make the chicken casserole I had set out to cook all morning while the girls did their homework. Then there was ironing, and bedtime, and countless other tasks that we do every evening...
It is well past ten now and I finally have time to sit down in front of my laptop - sorry, John, that squary thing you see with arms and legs, clackety-clacking away next to you, that's your wife!!! I will talk to you tomorrow, promise!
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Day 31 - Coffee and ice
Why is it that when you feel pretty much trodden on, things seem to get worse by the minute?
When the school reopened a few days ago we were all quite relieved, because, frankly, the children were climbing up the walls at home. But after dropping them to their classrooms this morning - well, just Emma, Sophie likes to go in herself, becuase "no other mums drop their children, you know, Mummy!" - I started questioning their sanity. Because just by the main school gate, just a few steps onto the tarmac, I went flying and landed unceremoniously on my bum. What made it ten times worse was that Sean Cronin, husband of perfectly coiffed Jane whose twins are in senior infants (how does she do it?), stopped with words of sympathy and tried to help me up. How humiliating. I bet that wouldn't happen to gorgeous Jane! I would have left here there...
I hightailed it out of the school yard, almost skidding again in my fake Ugg boots.
Then, when I pulled into Lidl a few minutes later, I took 4 attempts trying to reverse into a small car parking space, giving all of us woman drivers a terrrible name altogether. I was shaking by the time I got parked up, that impatient git behind me in his 4x4 honked me twice, I was SO embarrassed. I actually gave him the finger, but under the steering wheel so he couldn't see me... Then, in the shop, I was almost finished when I did what John refers to as a "lazy man's load", taking a run down 2-3 aisles and heaping the goods into my arms. Of course the 2 kg pack of flour which was on top decided not to stay where I had placed it and fell with a loud plop on the floor, bursting open and covering me and a little old man in plain flour. I even got his walking stick, he was not impressed. I was so apologetic but I don't think I managed to appease the beast.
I legged it home and sat in front of my laptop with 3 cups of strong coffee, which I usually don't drink very often, until I had calmed down. Of course minutes later I was wired to the moon, my body just isn't used to all of that caffeine. I speed-read 5 job sites and wrote 4 cover letters in half an hour. Luckily I didn't send them off, I reckoned I couldn't trust myself, and sure enough, reading back over them, "Hey, Mrs Agent" was not going to go down very well, and neither would "...so, c'mere, I think I would be pretty perf for the job, why dontcha call me..."
But at least I found some interesting-sounding ones. Applications on ice till tomorrow. How on earth am I supposed to sleep tonight??? Damn the little coffee bean!
When the school reopened a few days ago we were all quite relieved, because, frankly, the children were climbing up the walls at home. But after dropping them to their classrooms this morning - well, just Emma, Sophie likes to go in herself, becuase "no other mums drop their children, you know, Mummy!" - I started questioning their sanity. Because just by the main school gate, just a few steps onto the tarmac, I went flying and landed unceremoniously on my bum. What made it ten times worse was that Sean Cronin, husband of perfectly coiffed Jane whose twins are in senior infants (how does she do it?), stopped with words of sympathy and tried to help me up. How humiliating. I bet that wouldn't happen to gorgeous Jane! I would have left here there...
I hightailed it out of the school yard, almost skidding again in my fake Ugg boots.
Then, when I pulled into Lidl a few minutes later, I took 4 attempts trying to reverse into a small car parking space, giving all of us woman drivers a terrrible name altogether. I was shaking by the time I got parked up, that impatient git behind me in his 4x4 honked me twice, I was SO embarrassed. I actually gave him the finger, but under the steering wheel so he couldn't see me... Then, in the shop, I was almost finished when I did what John refers to as a "lazy man's load", taking a run down 2-3 aisles and heaping the goods into my arms. Of course the 2 kg pack of flour which was on top decided not to stay where I had placed it and fell with a loud plop on the floor, bursting open and covering me and a little old man in plain flour. I even got his walking stick, he was not impressed. I was so apologetic but I don't think I managed to appease the beast.
I legged it home and sat in front of my laptop with 3 cups of strong coffee, which I usually don't drink very often, until I had calmed down. Of course minutes later I was wired to the moon, my body just isn't used to all of that caffeine. I speed-read 5 job sites and wrote 4 cover letters in half an hour. Luckily I didn't send them off, I reckoned I couldn't trust myself, and sure enough, reading back over them, "Hey, Mrs Agent" was not going to go down very well, and neither would "...so, c'mere, I think I would be pretty perf for the job, why dontcha call me..."
But at least I found some interesting-sounding ones. Applications on ice till tomorrow. How on earth am I supposed to sleep tonight??? Damn the little coffee bean!
Monday, December 6, 2010
Day 30 - Paaah!
I didn't get it. No, I am not joking. I got the call and was informed that "the role had been filled by an internal candidate... But thank you for your interest." Paaaah!!!
The call was brief, polite, yet short, snappy. No need to waste time talking to someone who wasn't a suitable candidate.
I was gutted when I hung up the phone.
Gutted!
Then angry.
How dare they? How dare they put me through this, invite me for interview, take me down the route of "maybe they'll like me, if I have gotten this far, there is a good chance..." - and then it turns out that for them, they were just going through the motions! I was one of their quota, one of those that had to be interviewed to get a credible number of possible candidates... only to rule them all out and go with the one option they had identified they wanted all along...
HEY, PEOPLE, THIS IS MY LIFE YOU ARE PLAYING WITH!!! M Y L I F E !!!
But anger very quickly turned to self-doubt.
Maybe I just wasn't good enough. Maybe "filled internally" is the new way of saying: "Sorry, but you're crap."
Or "Your experience really isn't up to scratch, there are younger, more funky, technologically advanced, more up to date young-uns out there that could do your job for half the cost... (and they're probably far prettier, too!)"
Maybe I should look at another career, maybe my time as PA has come and gone...
And I try to shake off the gnawing self-doubt and turn it into self-belief. Amy, look at what you have achieved! Look at how far you have come! You had a great career. You gave it up. On purpose. To look after the girls, be there for them. You have two beautiful children. You have a loving husband, who is pretty great, if you ignore any DIY or tile-choosing prowesses. You have a lovely house. You have a cat who is almost not neurotic. Well, maybe just a little bit. You are creative, funny, and hey, did I mention you are writing a great blog? OK, so the last bit is made up. How do I know if it's great? Though, then again, it is nice to see the diverse countries my blog is currently being read in. Maybe I should start a new career. As a blog-doctor.
But back to my job. Or lack of. I was in tears when I rang John. I blubbed and sniffed and cried and shouted and whispered. And wailed. And all within a minute and a half. And then:
"Who is this? Mum, is that you?"
When he finally realised it was me he was great (he was only joking of course, he knew the minute he saw our home number come up!). I know, I can go ultra-sonic when I start bawling. I sound like a completely different person (though NOT a bit like his Mum!). I think it was his way of getting me to calm down. I was too sad to be cranky with him though...
He consoled me and I felt better after.
But I did not have the motivation to start looking again.
When the girls got home we dug out a board game. And it was lovely. I decided that this is a good way to drown your sorrows, let Ludo relieve your pain.
Tomorrow is another day. Tomorrow, I will find a job.
The call was brief, polite, yet short, snappy. No need to waste time talking to someone who wasn't a suitable candidate.
I was gutted when I hung up the phone.
Gutted!
Then angry.
How dare they? How dare they put me through this, invite me for interview, take me down the route of "maybe they'll like me, if I have gotten this far, there is a good chance..." - and then it turns out that for them, they were just going through the motions! I was one of their quota, one of those that had to be interviewed to get a credible number of possible candidates... only to rule them all out and go with the one option they had identified they wanted all along...
HEY, PEOPLE, THIS IS MY LIFE YOU ARE PLAYING WITH!!! M Y L I F E !!!
But anger very quickly turned to self-doubt.
Maybe I just wasn't good enough. Maybe "filled internally" is the new way of saying: "Sorry, but you're crap."
Or "Your experience really isn't up to scratch, there are younger, more funky, technologically advanced, more up to date young-uns out there that could do your job for half the cost... (and they're probably far prettier, too!)"
Maybe I should look at another career, maybe my time as PA has come and gone...
And I try to shake off the gnawing self-doubt and turn it into self-belief. Amy, look at what you have achieved! Look at how far you have come! You had a great career. You gave it up. On purpose. To look after the girls, be there for them. You have two beautiful children. You have a loving husband, who is pretty great, if you ignore any DIY or tile-choosing prowesses. You have a lovely house. You have a cat who is almost not neurotic. Well, maybe just a little bit. You are creative, funny, and hey, did I mention you are writing a great blog? OK, so the last bit is made up. How do I know if it's great? Though, then again, it is nice to see the diverse countries my blog is currently being read in. Maybe I should start a new career. As a blog-doctor.
But back to my job. Or lack of. I was in tears when I rang John. I blubbed and sniffed and cried and shouted and whispered. And wailed. And all within a minute and a half. And then:
"Who is this? Mum, is that you?"
When he finally realised it was me he was great (he was only joking of course, he knew the minute he saw our home number come up!). I know, I can go ultra-sonic when I start bawling. I sound like a completely different person (though NOT a bit like his Mum!). I think it was his way of getting me to calm down. I was too sad to be cranky with him though...
He consoled me and I felt better after.
But I did not have the motivation to start looking again.
When the girls got home we dug out a board game. And it was lovely. I decided that this is a good way to drown your sorrows, let Ludo relieve your pain.
Tomorrow is another day. Tomorrow, I will find a job.
Day 29 - The Cabbage Factor
Kids' parties always leave me exhausted.
But happy.
Emma seemed to be having a good time, played for an hour and a half, ate most of her nuggets and chips, with a little help from Mummy, and scoffed half her party bag on the way home, until I saw what was going on and stopped her. She was on a merry little sugar high all evening but luckily fell into bed without too many objections and was asleep before 8.
Sophie had a great day with Daddy, by all accounts. They barricaded us into the living room as they unloaded the car, filled with, well, cabbages, as Sophie tried to convince me. But of course Emma and I didn't buy the vegetarian cover-up, we believe they were carrying a trunkful of, well, presies of the Christmas variety. But of course we didn't let on.
After a home-cooked meal and the excitement of the X-Factor (Mary Byrne is out, who would have thought? Well, to be honest, me, I think of all the acts left she was the weakest, though she did have the Irish vote on these and yonder shores. I do love her story and the success she has found. But - and Sharon will kill me for this, she being an avid Mary-fan - I believe her range is limited and many of her performances are based on belting out the tunes...Give me Rebecca any day. But I digress...) Sophie wasn't long after Emma to fall asleep, and we won't be long after her...
I have decided that tomorrow will be a good day, when good things will happen.
As my dear mother always says, a good positive attitude will get you far!
But happy.
Emma seemed to be having a good time, played for an hour and a half, ate most of her nuggets and chips, with a little help from Mummy, and scoffed half her party bag on the way home, until I saw what was going on and stopped her. She was on a merry little sugar high all evening but luckily fell into bed without too many objections and was asleep before 8.
Sophie had a great day with Daddy, by all accounts. They barricaded us into the living room as they unloaded the car, filled with, well, cabbages, as Sophie tried to convince me. But of course Emma and I didn't buy the vegetarian cover-up, we believe they were carrying a trunkful of, well, presies of the Christmas variety. But of course we didn't let on.
After a home-cooked meal and the excitement of the X-Factor (Mary Byrne is out, who would have thought? Well, to be honest, me, I think of all the acts left she was the weakest, though she did have the Irish vote on these and yonder shores. I do love her story and the success she has found. But - and Sharon will kill me for this, she being an avid Mary-fan - I believe her range is limited and many of her performances are based on belting out the tunes...Give me Rebecca any day. But I digress...) Sophie wasn't long after Emma to fall asleep, and we won't be long after her...
I have decided that tomorrow will be a good day, when good things will happen.
As my dear mother always says, a good positive attitude will get you far!
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Day 28 - Parties and Bolognaise
Another Saturday. The phone has been charged although I know I won't get a call today, well, not about the interview anyway. Another present has been wrapped though we're not too sure if we will be able to get to Sophie's friend's party this afternoon, the weather is still pretty dicey. Another 3 washes have been put on, the uniforms need to ready for the weeks ahead.
Another Saturday.
I do love the weekend. But it does mean that I have to wait another 48 hours until things might move again.
But I will not obsess. I will not think about the "what if"s and the "maybe"s.
I will spend the day devoted to my family and will be there for them today. I will not switch on my laptop until after the XFactor is over tonight.
John went shopping with Emma while Sophie and I went to the party. Of course she is at an age where I could really leave her there for the two hours, I know her Mum well enough by now. But I decided that I would endure the terrible hardship that is slurping coffee and catching up with all the gossip for a while (and then later I can call in some brownie points with John, à la "I just spent two full hours at a children's birthday party, cos I know how much you hate them, I always pull the short straw on that one, you know... I could really do with a drink, darling, will you get me one, please please please???"
Of course I need to remind myself that John does not spend copious hours in our "new" shower while I'm out - for me, the novelty has not yet worn off, but John could not be any more interested in our new tiles than he would be watching the washing machine do a full cycle. Instead, while we were out, he put away all the shopping that he and Emma had acquired - and he stuck to the list, apart from the treat that Emma insisted on, and by the sounds of it, thoroughly deserved as well. When we arrived back, Sophie pretty much green in the face from her 5 cups of fizzy orange, 3 nuggets, 25 chips, 2 bags of jellies and half a bar of chocolate, dinner was ready and the table set - and despite my consumption of 3 buckets of tea, I pretended to be hungry as a bear (and not a sparrow) and tucked into my bolognaise. I mean, I had to show my gratitude, didn't I.
Fiona is always in awe when she hears about John's culinary departures. I suppose I am used to it by now, but when I think about it, there are not too many hubbies that I know who can hold their own in the kitchen and actually enjoy cooking. He may not know one end of a hammer from another ("Is that a big 4x4?"), may not be familiar with the various types of adhesive required for effective tiling, but he knows the merits of adding sugar to a bolognaise to avoid acidity, and how to cook the pasta perfectly al dente.
I love Saturdays.
Another Saturday.
I do love the weekend. But it does mean that I have to wait another 48 hours until things might move again.
But I will not obsess. I will not think about the "what if"s and the "maybe"s.
I will spend the day devoted to my family and will be there for them today. I will not switch on my laptop until after the XFactor is over tonight.
John went shopping with Emma while Sophie and I went to the party. Of course she is at an age where I could really leave her there for the two hours, I know her Mum well enough by now. But I decided that I would endure the terrible hardship that is slurping coffee and catching up with all the gossip for a while (and then later I can call in some brownie points with John, à la "I just spent two full hours at a children's birthday party, cos I know how much you hate them, I always pull the short straw on that one, you know... I could really do with a drink, darling, will you get me one, please please please???"
Of course I need to remind myself that John does not spend copious hours in our "new" shower while I'm out - for me, the novelty has not yet worn off, but John could not be any more interested in our new tiles than he would be watching the washing machine do a full cycle. Instead, while we were out, he put away all the shopping that he and Emma had acquired - and he stuck to the list, apart from the treat that Emma insisted on, and by the sounds of it, thoroughly deserved as well. When we arrived back, Sophie pretty much green in the face from her 5 cups of fizzy orange, 3 nuggets, 25 chips, 2 bags of jellies and half a bar of chocolate, dinner was ready and the table set - and despite my consumption of 3 buckets of tea, I pretended to be hungry as a bear (and not a sparrow) and tucked into my bolognaise. I mean, I had to show my gratitude, didn't I.
Fiona is always in awe when she hears about John's culinary departures. I suppose I am used to it by now, but when I think about it, there are not too many hubbies that I know who can hold their own in the kitchen and actually enjoy cooking. He may not know one end of a hammer from another ("Is that a big 4x4?"), may not be familiar with the various types of adhesive required for effective tiling, but he knows the merits of adding sugar to a bolognaise to avoid acidity, and how to cook the pasta perfectly al dente.
I love Saturdays.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Day 27 - Fed up
I shake it.
I turn it upside down.
I roll it from side to side.
I knock it against the side of the kitchen counter.
I tap it on the floor.
I shake it again.
No, it's not my child I am talking about.
Nor my left foot.
It's my phone. It's not ringing! And it is frustrating me. I should have heard by now, and I haven't. And that's not a good sign.
I hope tomorrow will be a day where it will not stop ringing. I even switched it off and on again 3 times, to make sure it was working.
WHY IS NOBODY CALLING ME TODAY??? Not even a text message. Well, I did get an email from Dad. At least someone still loves me.
And why, oh why, is everything still covered in that white mess outside? Someone switch off the snow. I've had enough and Ireland is clearly NOT READY.
Rant over. I feel better now. Just needed to get it out of my system. Right, I am off to bed. Tomorrow is another day.
I turn it upside down.
I roll it from side to side.
I knock it against the side of the kitchen counter.
I tap it on the floor.
I shake it again.
No, it's not my child I am talking about.
Nor my left foot.
It's my phone. It's not ringing! And it is frustrating me. I should have heard by now, and I haven't. And that's not a good sign.
I hope tomorrow will be a day where it will not stop ringing. I even switched it off and on again 3 times, to make sure it was working.
WHY IS NOBODY CALLING ME TODAY??? Not even a text message. Well, I did get an email from Dad. At least someone still loves me.
And why, oh why, is everything still covered in that white mess outside? Someone switch off the snow. I've had enough and Ireland is clearly NOT READY.
Rant over. I feel better now. Just needed to get it out of my system. Right, I am off to bed. Tomorrow is another day.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Day 26 - Snowed in...
I am still feeling drained. John says I should be proud of myself that I got to this stage. And I am. But somehow I have the feeling this is as far as it will go. Well, I won't say any more, I don't want to jinx things. So back to the mundane for now.
Had the car booked in for a service today. Just as I was wondering how I would get out of the driveway and up the small hill at the top of the road the garage rang me - the two mechanics had been unable to make it in to work, and the receptionist had only gone in herself to cancel appointments. So was it okay if we rescheduled? Oh, yes, indeed, that suited me down to the ground. With the school closed and the driveway all iced up we haven't been out of the house, apart from my exciting excursion (I know, I'm mentioning it again!) yesterday, and it would hardly have been fun having the girls in tow whilst waiting for the car to be done.
Luckily I got some essentials on the way home yesterday and today we are battoning down the hatches - the fire is lit 24/7 and we have enough provisions in the freezer to last at least a week. Everyone I know is sitting it out, mainly at home, only very few, including John, make it in every morning... because he walks to work. It takes him a little longer than usual but he doesn't mind, he loves to walk anyway. Funny, it is one of my least favourite pasttimes. Give me a horse or even a donkey and I will do the distance 3 times over. But a lovely walk in a green leafy forest is the next worst thing to waking up in a pool of sweat after a 3-hour nightmare. Well, perhaps not quite as bad as being mauled by a lion. But close.
Anyway, it is all irrelevant in this arctic spell, as they are calling it, there is hardly a leafy forest in sight - nor a lion, for that matter. I saw a cyclist fly past me yesterday and I literally shook my head at him (or her, it was so mummified I could not make out what it was) - cycling in the snow, s/he must have been - wait for it - cyco!
We are fed up with watching DVDs for now, so we have resorted to arts and crafts and are making a calendar for granny and grandad. So far we have 4 different snow scenes. We'd better close our eyes and try and think of spring or the calendar will contain no seasons whatsoever. Watch this space...
Had the car booked in for a service today. Just as I was wondering how I would get out of the driveway and up the small hill at the top of the road the garage rang me - the two mechanics had been unable to make it in to work, and the receptionist had only gone in herself to cancel appointments. So was it okay if we rescheduled? Oh, yes, indeed, that suited me down to the ground. With the school closed and the driveway all iced up we haven't been out of the house, apart from my exciting excursion (I know, I'm mentioning it again!) yesterday, and it would hardly have been fun having the girls in tow whilst waiting for the car to be done.
Luckily I got some essentials on the way home yesterday and today we are battoning down the hatches - the fire is lit 24/7 and we have enough provisions in the freezer to last at least a week. Everyone I know is sitting it out, mainly at home, only very few, including John, make it in every morning... because he walks to work. It takes him a little longer than usual but he doesn't mind, he loves to walk anyway. Funny, it is one of my least favourite pasttimes. Give me a horse or even a donkey and I will do the distance 3 times over. But a lovely walk in a green leafy forest is the next worst thing to waking up in a pool of sweat after a 3-hour nightmare. Well, perhaps not quite as bad as being mauled by a lion. But close.
Anyway, it is all irrelevant in this arctic spell, as they are calling it, there is hardly a leafy forest in sight - nor a lion, for that matter. I saw a cyclist fly past me yesterday and I literally shook my head at him (or her, it was so mummified I could not make out what it was) - cycling in the snow, s/he must have been - wait for it - cyco!
We are fed up with watching DVDs for now, so we have resorted to arts and crafts and are making a calendar for granny and grandad. So far we have 4 different snow scenes. We'd better close our eyes and try and think of spring or the calendar will contain no seasons whatsoever. Watch this space...
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