I discovered to my horror this morning that the back of my now rather long hair had turned into a mass of dreadlocks at the base of my skull. I was a lazy snot yesterday and didn’t brush it. This, combined with the fleece top I was wearing zipped up to my chin wreaked absolute havoc on my unfortunate tresses.

I’m just back from lunchtime at home where I spent fifteen minutes and half a bottle of Herbal Essences conditioner trying, and eventually succeeding, to get them out. My hair now smells like heaven on speed and I feel all fresh-from-a-tropical-waterfall, refreshed and rejuvenated. An odd feeling to have in work after lunch, it’s usually at this point that I’m starting to feel soggy and full and dreading the crawl to six.

***

It’s soooo spring now, no going back. The temperature is definitely up, and it was bright til nearly nine last night! nine!!! I’d forgotten how fast it all happens. Our garden is full of twittering and buds and flickering bright greens. The kitlemins are fascinated with the new and exciting things happening outside their window, and I’ve noticed they seem a little more interested in the front door than previously.

Upon further reflection our original catio plans won’t be workable without upsetting the structure that’s already there. This being a rented house we really don’t want to leave any marks on anything when we leave, and drilling into the wood etc. just wouldn’t be fair. We’re still knocking about other ideas, but it may be a case of going to the hardware store and taking inspiration from the materials we see there.

***

Benny is still laid out with whatever he has. It doesn’t seem to be full blown flu, but it doesn’t look too far off either. He was doing okay until Saturday, wherein he got a burst of energy and went mad doing things around the house which flattened him all day Sunday. Today he’s a little brighter looking but still not up to much beyond the couch. If there isn’t a significant improvement by the morning I’m going to have to bring him to the doctor.

Back to the grind… *swishes hair dramatically*

I’ve been puttering around the house all morning wondering what to write. I’m caught in the predicament of wanting to keep up my blog daily, but sitting down to write to find nothing but mild whinge to relate. I don’t particularly like that all I have in my mind is whinge, and I’ve been wrestling with it. But that’s all I’ve got.

I turn my mind to positive things and I list among them, my house that I enjoy greatly, the kittens, the fact that I’m not ill or don’t have any major crisis on my hands. Oh, and of course, I love where I live. But I am missing my friends, and I’m sick of getting up in the morning dreading going to work. It’s a drain, it unfocuses me. It’s also kicking the fucking arse out of my confidence, and I’m at my best when my ego is involved to some degree. My ego has shriveled to the size of a tiny raisin and has slipped down a crack in the back of my brain, it may even be logged in a sinus at this point.

So I no doubt need a new project. But everything is on hold until Benny gets a job, and I get a new job. I feel like I’ve been on hold for a long time. All I want, and I don’t think it’s too much, is a bloody job I don’t hate, and for Benny to have a job he doesn’t hate, and for us to have enough money to go out and enjoy a meal, to be able to buy new pots and pans, fancy shower gel, catnip for the kittens, the kinds of things that you don’t do when you’re on one income.

End Rant.

Benny has been training the kittens while being at home. At this point Millie plays fetch like a pro, even frequently putting the little foam ball directly into your hand, mostly she just rolls it to your foot/hand. Similarly, she usually waits outside the bedroom for him in the morning with the ball in her mouth. Her other, and my most favourite trick, is standing up to grab your hand very gently and bring it down to floor level where she licks and lightly bites it.

Sasha’s cutest trick is flipping himself over on his back on your knees so he can have tummy rubs. He also likes to sprint up the stairs in front of you to be congratulated for his speed and prowess at the top of the stairs. He’s also negotiated a compromise on how far into the kitchen he can come to watch us while we make dinner etc. and he very, very rarely crosses the line (they’re restricted from the kitchen because the chairs are the landladies and they think they’re giant velvety scratching posts). He also uses the cat litter tray every time we sit down to something to eat in the sitting room, lunchtime and evening. That wouldn’t be one of our favourite things that he does.

So now, off for a little drive to get us out of the house. Benny is still dying with his flu like affliction, though he is getting better little by little every day. Then I reckon it’ll be newspapers, books, coffee, and ham and creamy mushroom pancakes for dinner. Mmm.

If you could just take a second to hit support and vote on this online petition I’d be hugely greatful. Sligo cancer services are being taken away leaving people having to travel for hundreds of miles for treatment, diagnosis, operations etc. they would also end up having to stay near the centre they travel too, away from their families at a time when they need them most. People in the west of Ireland frequently get shat on like this while resources are ploughed into Dublin etc. It only take a second Thankyouplease!

I made another batch of rice crispy cakes tonight, this time with half a pack of Rolos thrown in for good measure. They are cooling and solidifying in the fridge as we speak.

We watched a documentary about creative’ists and intelligent doodle tonight (names obscured because I sure as shit don’t want any hits coming my way on that topic). There are a hundred and one things I could say about the depth of my feelings about the wrongness of it all, but I wont. I did quite enough ranting, laughing and ranting again while I was watching it. I will say however, that I don’t believe that the human spirit can be contained in so small a vessel, no matter how easy it is to believe something which makes you feel good about not understanding everything, by relieving you of all burden to even attempt an understanding of your own. I’ll stop there.

I’ve been thinking about negativity, and about why it’s such an easy state of being. I remember a few years ago, on my way to college on a bus one day, it occured to me to try to say something good in my head about every single person I saw on the street. So, the lady in the billous flower dress got a ‘good for her for loving bright colours and wearing something she likes’, rather than ‘God love her but you could fly that thing from the mast of the good ship tasteless’, or something to that effect. I went through every single person I could rest my eyes on and tried to push the negative assumptions aside and see what it felt like to think of something positive all the time. It was an interesting exercise.

I’m not saying I’m a particularly negative person, but I accept that like a lot of people I know, I default to an assumption that other people must have been doing something thick/selfish etc. when I feel wronged. It takes much more effort to think that they might have been having a shit morning or that you might have just picked up their tone/actions etc. in a negative light because you’re having a shit morning. I do make the effort, every day, and I’ll offer an optimistic assessment of someones actions etc. to a staff member or friend that I hear complaining whenever it is safe to do so.

Here’s my point in another way. Two things that happened today can illustrate what I’m on about. Number one, on my way home this evening I got stuck on the relief road that goes through the town behind someone who was driving at around 35kph, the limit is 50, most people go over 50 as a matter of course on this road. I checked my mirrors and made a quick dart into the other lane, I easily passed the slow person and then got stuck again, necessitating another lane swap. Neither swap was dangerous, I had room and I completed the moves so quickly and at enough distance from the person behind me to put them in no danger, though I’m pretty sure it still raised eyebrows. If eyebrows were raised, I imagine the words uttered would probably have been something along the lines of ’stupid impatient little cow, that’s bloody dangerous wreckless driving that is, why couldn’t she just wait in line like the rest of us’. They could however have said ’she must really need to get home for some reason, or have had a crap day in work, I hope she has a safe journey’. Which do you think is more likely?

Example number two, on the phone today in work a lady with a very loud and heavily accented voice rang and announced herself as Mrs Whodie-Doodie of Thingy-Corporation and left a pregnant pause after her declaration, presumably to entice me to repeat my offer of assistance at the start of the call, or because she assumed I would know who she was. I passed her through to the relevant department and got off the phone all wrinkle-eyebrowed and irritated at her weird phone manner. How the hell would I know who the bleep she was? I’m a sales person answering the one main number for our company, why would she assume that anyone other than the person she was directly dealing with in service would know who she was?

Why did I think like that? Why did I have to be so negative and defensive? Why is that the default?

Now, I know it’s not everyone’s default. I know there are plenty of laid back, peaceful people who don’t jump to negative conclusions about people, and there are also those who don’t give a flying shite what anyone else does anyway. But why do I have to struggle, within my mind (outwardly I rarely ever show these irritations), to keep myself forgiving and thoughtful and not negative towards other people?

I have had it proved to me countless times that there is masses of goodness in the world, that people will help other people, give the benefit of the doubt, be courageous and wonderful and loving to those around them, strangers and all. I see it everywhere, because I look for it, because I try to cultivate it in myself. But I fail so often, to avoid the pitfall of bitchy negative thoughts, fail to short-circuit them rather than just correct them a second, or a minute after I’ve thought them.

Perhaps I’m being to hard on myself. On reflection, I usually only make crabby assumptions when I’m being pressed too hard upon by things around me, work, aggressive managerial types, you know what I’m talking about. So, it’s as simple an equation as me projecting my own negativity onto others. And quite a lot of people are unhappy in their daily lives, so there’s plenty of it to go around.

These are all thoughts I’ve had a million and one times before, old paths in my brain. But I like to test simplistic theories, accepted truths, especially my own. So I have to question them again, in bits, like here, with no full resolution, just an ongoing process.

I whinge too much basically. Or do I just forget all the good things I think, why do they leak away so readily and leave me with this feeling that I give out too much, or that I’m too negative? Good old fashioned Catholic guilt? A wee lingering touch of depression and stress that’s blackening up my ability to break down what’s going on in my mind?

Not to wrap it up in too pretty a bow, but it’s the process it’s all about really isn’t it? Thinking it through, trying to make sure I’m as resolved within myself as I can be, so that I can spread that to everyone around me. Keeping on top of the negativity, making sure I’m striking a balance. The world would indeed be fucked if we lost our ability to do that.

Just in case you were wondering where the title came from, go to 17 minutes 25 seconds in this video and all will become clear. I fell in love with this performance years ago working in Xtra Vision where we used to watch it religiously, feel free to watch the whole thing, it’s fantastic, but I thought it best to reference the person I stole the line from. (I’m aware it’s a touch dated at this stage).

I made chocolate rice crispy buns last night. I melted an Easter egg and a knob of butter, and then got happy with the wooden spoon mushing it all together. An hour after they left the fridge, most of them were in our tummies. The remainder was polished off by yours truly earlier this evening.

So, the message for today, if you haven’t made rice crispy buns in a long time, do so, you cannot imagine how much nicer they are in reality compared to your memory of them!

Today passed more quickly because I was busier. We must be thankful for small blessings.

Benny isn’t feeling well, a resurgence of the weekends mild cold, complete with stuffed ears and achey-pains and sore lung-bits. I shall return to my nursemaidly duties, though, I just turned around to see Millie is doing an admirable job of cheering him up by balancing like a small furry fairy cake atop his thigh.

That reminds me, I meant to share some of the variations I get out of Sasha and Millie’s names. I think a lot of pet owners do it, but I consider it an artform and a source of great enjoyment in my daily days. For your amusement here’s a short list of the ones that immediately come to me.

Millie:

Mill’a'purr

Millie-boots

Millie-booootse

Millington boots

Millie-pod

Millie vanilly

Milldew

Millodorous

(Among many others, those are the only ones coming to mind right now)

Sasha:

Sashpurrnicus

Sasherilous

Sasher-rasher

Sashes

Sashid Ali

Big balls

Mushroom (from his encounter with the ringworm fungus)

Sashey-pod

Sasherleen

Collectively they are known as:

the bobtails

the tiny things

the lamb-baba’s

the morsels

little boy and little girl

baberilus’s

whin’eters

bobbins

lamb-doodlers

doodlamins

cutie patooties (borrowed from Kate and Jim, though the spelling is probably wrong).

pampooses

tootlers

I feel disinclined to blog when I’m feeling moany. It does not for good reading make. And I don’t really want to dwell on it frankly. I know what the issue is, you can all guess what the issue is, let’s just say it’s a constant and rather irritatingly yappy little dog, (perhaps not quite black), niggling at my ankles. And this morning I had to ask if the issue at hand could be dealt with in a professional manner as shouting and aggression were not going to get it solved any faster. Le sigh.

Anyway. My head is full of not much at the moment. I was spoilt with the time off I’ve had, and with being in Benny’s rather excellent company for days on end. I missed him today.

I am enjoying the light though, and the rise in temperature, though only slight. I’m not so much looking forward to the change in time at the end of week, yes, it’s more light, but the missing hour and the upset to my system irk me disproportionately.

I’ve been blighted with images of St Petersburg again. They always seem to flood into my mind a few months after the visit, as if they have settled and are readily accessible now. They are such lovely images, so rich and real and not at all mournful for being in the past tense. I know my relationship with that city will continue for the rest of my life, so it doesn’t feel so sad to explore these images now as it did previously. What I’m saying is, I know it wont be that long until we go back again.

Anyway, I’m more rooted in the future at the moment than the past, or even the present. The present I take what good I can from, but it’s something to be endured for now. Such is life. In my experience these transitional phases make the good times all the sweeter, and I’m not one to forget how the bad underlines and emphasises the good.

****

Greg asked me for a sarnie recipe or two, and I came up with a very lovely one on Sunday. Well, I say came up, remembered is probably more accurate. I lightly baked some ready made croissants, put some finely diced cooked ham and antipasto-style wild mushrooms (drained of their oil) in them, then slopped on some Red Leicester cheese I had melted in the microwave. It was scrumptious, and filling, and no doubt fattening.

Another favourite is corned beef, (canned or sliced, just not that god awful plastic crap you get if you go too cheap), with Branston pickle on brown bread. Mmm.

And a good fatty one when you need a fill up, white pudding, (the grainy kind), (grilled/George Forman’d), thin smoked bacon, (grilled etc.), and a fried egg (hard, we’ve tried soft but it’s not as nice in this sanbo for some reason), all on toasted brown pan with a touch of butter if you’re feeling really wicked, but I’m happy enough with Flora, and I nearly forgot the most important touch – Chef Brown Sauce.

My other all time favourite – freshly baked ciabatta, coleslaw, tomato, red onion, roast chicken, lashings of melted cheese and half an acre of Rocket (I think some people call this Arugula?) – devine! Actually, same ciabatta with tuna mixed with mayo, finely chopped red onion, finely chopped green and red bell peppers, and finely diced tomato is fabulous too.

Will they keep you going for a while?

I’ll be back tomorrow. I chose to do the absolute minimum with my few days off. The highlight of which was a night over in Cavan with the requisite Chinese take away and night in the Abbey. Today was newspapers and recipe books, and mulling over the future.

Until tomorrow…

I took the day off today. I went into town and tried to find shoes for work, what a draining and irksome task. I eventually found a pair, but I don’t really like them, close and all as they are to my requirements (wedge heel, can wear socks with them instead of tights), I just couldn’t justify sixty euro for something that really doesn’t float my boat.

I’m in weird humour today. Upon a moments reflection I realise the reason is that I feel something coming. The first thing that popped into my head is that I feel the way I did before I started in the job I’m in now, before I even knew about it. For about two weeks before being told the position existed I had this weird ‘holding pattern’ sensation, where I couldn’t quite get my teeth into anything because it felt like something fundamental was about to change. Now, I’m not saying I’m psychic, but these gut feelings have a habit of lending themselves to explanations after the fact.

One of the positions I applied for, and to be truthful, the one I’m far more interested in, didn’t come back to me on the appointed date to say whether I had gotten through to the interview stage based on my application form. I held out for a few days but buckled and rang yesterday to see if they had actually received my fax, just for the peace of mind of knowing that they had gotten it and didn’t like it, as opposed to never having seen it. The lady recognised my name, and apologised that they had indeed gotten it, but were delayed in replying due to the cluster of public holidays this week. She was very pleasant and told me I’d get a call to say if I’d gotten through next week.

So, I went from slightly downhearted at not getting a call, thinking I’d missed my chance, to hopeful again. It surprised me how excited I was to learn that I might still be in with a chance for an interview.

So anyway. Today is for relaxing, the fire is warming up, I have a book about cats to aspire to reading and leave down ten minutes later, and I have a belly full of sausages and brown bread. Mmm.

Do you know, I wish I had a better way to end this today, or more to say for myself, but it’s all just wind up there. My brain is a cavity filled with vague notions, indecision and bollox today. Yes, best to just sit down and relax. Ooooh, I think I’ll have a Martini…

When I was a teenager in school, we used the above term to describe the state our heads used to get into on particularly boring long afternoons in school. The kind where you become almost zombiesque from sitting too long doing nothing, wishing you were somewhere else, doing something else entirely. I have achieved that state this evening, and feel at this point, with the beautiful spring sun burning the eyeballs out of my head (it’s directly in front of me above the computer screen), that should they actually melt and pour down my face, my brains would not be long flowing out after them.

I’ve had two long days, meeting this morning, and one that I turned up for yesterday morning that never happened. Meaning both days have been nine and a half hour days. Needless to say I didn’t compensate for those earlier and longer hours by going to bed earlier or for longer.

On the positive side though, I have Friday off. It was supposed to be Saturday, to give me another three day run, but it turned out this morning at the meeting that we are open on Saturday after all – so, someone had to do it, and it wasn’t fair to stick either of the guys who had the broken up weekend last weekend. C’est la vie. No doubt I’ll come up with some good reason over the weekend why it really was better that it turned out that way. I’m good at that.

So, the long day is nearly o’r. I’m hungry, bored, arsey, frazzled, tired, lethargic, grumpy, arsey, hungry, not in the humour. Well, I’ve been worse. And the weather nice. And I have time off soon. And really, I’m not dying of hunger or missing a limb. So I should shut up, really.

Right then. Best to tidy up and ready myself for home. Still loving my new suit by the way. Remarkable how good it is for the aul confidence.

We had a great weekend. Down on Friday night, bit of TV and a can by the fire, into Dublin city the following morning after a fry up in our favourite cafe in Phibsboro. I found an old album of nineties dance tracks I used to love for a fiver in Chapters, and we both got Merrel’s in my favourite camping shop in Capel street. It was pissing rain so we didn’t hang around too long. After ready meals from Aldi (the romance!), we went out to Brady’s – the pub we spent most of our time in when we first started going out and Benny was still living in Blanchardstown. There is no writerly way to put this, we just had a right royal piss up and staggered out at closing time still waffling and laughing the whole way back to the house.

On Sunday we lathered rinsed and repeated, this time substituting the Blanchardstown shopping centre and another old favourite pub, Hedigan’s in Phibsboro. On Sunday I drove back and we suffered suitably on the couch by the fire – dripping with happy kittens.

I got a suit (machine washable, what joy!) on Sunday which is cheering me up no end today. If you have to go back to work after a wonderful weekend off, might as well do it in style.

The most noteworthy aspect of the trip, and something we both agreed on, was how normal it felt to be in Brady’s and Hedigan’s again. I kept forgetting we had gone away, that it was a year since we’d been there – it felt so completely normal and everyday. Like Sligo had been a vivid dream the night before that was difficult to shake. Even when it came to leaving Hedigan’s, we both forgot we had to leave in time for the last bus, and somewhere in the back of my mind I’m sure I’d decided we’d just get a taxi up the road (where we used to live in proximity to Hedigan’s was a five minute taxi ride or a fifteen minute walk). It was a strange feeling, like time had folded. I miss those pubs an awful lot, more than I could imagine missing any of the pubs down here.

We don’t miss the crowds and the traffic and the hussle though, and I’m glad to be home. It’ll take a few days to percolate my other observations, and to settle myself back into this world, I feel rather between the two places right now, and that’s not an easy perch on which to gather ones thoughts.