Tuesday, December 20, 2005


I'm posting from a café in Dublin listening to DJ Shadow being piped out as the brisk typers frantically finish college essays, the home-searchers browse DAFT and the gadget lovers look at glossy images of things I can only imagine are necessary to the daily life of your average underachieving overqualified man who I am very jealous of as I have to go back to work and he doesn't, evidently.

Bah, poor me. This morning I didn't even have time to look at the swans on the canal, meetings and phone calls and letters and blah was filling up my head.

The men and women handing out the Metro and Herald AM caught my eye, wonder what it must be like plying people like me, who have no use for thepaper - do they wish they were me, making my way to an ugly office out of the cold, or do they despise me for refusing their paper, see me as strutting around the place in my suit and jacket, barely remembering to smile when saying, 'thank you, no'.

This morning was Kris Kindel. I'm not a fan, bad memories of getting a 'Moody Judy' kids book a few years ago (unfortunately I think I know why and from whom). But this year a kindly sort bought me a beautiful bling bling shiny thing for my arm.

Yay, evening of hanging with mate at home in an alco-lite evening of sticking sellotape to my lips in an effort to wrap gifts.

Comments: Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Irish Bloggers