This is turning into a bit of a weekend journal. I just write about what I do on the weekend, skipping the working week. Mostly this is because, unsurprisingly, nothing interesting happens during the week. I wish I had the strength to party Monday to Friday, and go to work, and party all weekend, but it seems I’m too old for that sort of thing. Oooh wow, I thought I’d be at least 7 years older than I am before I ever muttered that phrase.
Physically I’m at work from nine until five, which is eight hours, but in reality work takes up much more time than that. I get up at 7.00 (well, I set my alarm for seven, but in reality I get up much closer to 7.20) and from then up until nine I’m getting ready for work and then going to work. Then I work till five. Then I travel home from work and get home about six thirty. So in reality I spend eleven and a half hours a day (at least) doing work-related activities. Eleven and a half out of twenty four. Subtract the eight hours I spend sleeping each day, and that leaves only four and a half measly hours each day to do all the life stuff - cook, clean, have a shower, iron my shirts (ok, ok, I almost never do that), go grocery shopping, et cetera et cetera. Now that I think about it it’s a bloody miracle I get anything done at all.
Of course this situation is nothing new; everyone has to deal with it when they begin full time work. Gone are the breezy days of studying Arts with only 10 or so contact hours a week; where a cup of coffee and a relaxing chat were never more than a double lecture away. The university years can be the best in your life, if you make the most of them. I must say though, personally, I think this year rivals first year uni for most fun had, even though I am working full time.
Travelling enables you to Etch-a-Sketch your life; you put some effort in and give it a long, hard shake, and suddenly you have a new slate on which you can draw whatever you like. Hopefully, if things have gone right, previous experience has taught you a few things, you don’t make the same mistakes as last time, and your picture is cleaner and more beautiful. Or maybe, as in my case, your confidence in your ability to draw has grown and you can take more risks with your drawing, so it has the potential to become something really special, rather than a simple sketch. But I think now I’ve stretched this metaphor far beyond its limits, so I’ll move on to the next topic.
The big news in my life at the moment is that I’m going to Paris on the 30th, with the Polish Maria and her brother Mike. It’s going to be loads and loads of fun (I hope) but very expensive fun. Still, Paris! It’s the Paris of Europe! You know, as opposed to Melbourne, the Paris of Australia, or New Orleans, the Paris of North America, or Seoul, which I think may refer to itself as the Paris of South-East Asia. I kind of have this idea that I’ll step off the plane and there’ll be all these people in stripy t-shirts and berets, and the music from “Amelie” will be playing, and everything will be all French. The reality will probably be that I’ll get to the airport about 22:00 and everything will be dark, and I won’t be able to find the hostel, and there’ll be no berets but everyone will speak French all right and it’ll be Copenhagen all over again (except in French not Danish). Mike and Maria aren’t arriving until Saturday morning so I’ll have to sort myself out on the Friday. I get back to Dublin about 17:00 on Sunday afternoon, so I’ll be wrecked for the next week at work, but I came to Europe to travel, so there’s no way I’m staying in Dublin all year!
On that note, especially for all my beloved relatives reading this – I asked my boss for four weeks off over Christmas and he agreed! So I’ll be in Buenos Aires on the 10th of December, and 2 or 3 weeks later I’ll be flying to Denver to visit my cousin Ana in Colorado, and hopefully I can see San Francisco, New York and Boston while I’m there. New Orleans was in the plans but after Katrina I’m not sure what state the city will be in at that stage (yes, it’ll still be in Louisiana, haha). I’ll be short on time, but I can’t ask for any more than four weeks, it’s more than I’m entitled to anyway.
Hmmm, it’s 20:21 and my flatmates still aren’t home yet. Should I be worried? It’s so weird to be home alone, but I must say I’m enjoying the solitude (I get precious little of it here). I can play all the music I like, and nobody to complain. Plus they all like to watch TV which is totally irritating because the free-to-air TV in Ireland is terrible (much like back home, except for channel 10 of course Meags). Shelley always puts Sky News on in the mornings when we’re eating breakfast which shits me to tears because I’ve just woken up, and all I want is a bit of peace and quiet while I eat my muesli, and suddenly some upper-class English toff is waffling about David Beckham’s new haircut. The silver lining to this particular cloud is that I know the entertainment news comes on at 07:50, which is when I have to leave. So when they start on about celebrity weddings and such I know I have to get out or I’ll be late for work.
Anyway, it’s starting to get late. Well, actually it’s only 8:30 but I’ve turned into a total grandma during the week and have to be in bed by 10 or I turn into a pumpkin. This Thursday I’m going to see the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion with some friends, so I’ll be totally wrecked on Friday, but hey, nobody gets stuff done on Friday right? Hehe just kidding if anyone from ACS is reading this! I can’t wait for the concert, I’ve heard so much about the JSBE and how great they are, so it should be a good time. I’ll let you know about it soon!
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