Half way through the thing, folks. So I’ve come up for air. Two down, two to go. Then finito - that means finished in Soprano. Well there’ll be something else to do, but it’ll be spread over 5 months - call it a t h i i i i i i i i i i i g.
Ah grand, thanks. It’s going grand.
Well except for today. Firstly there was a serious outbreak of construction over at the neighbours. Far enough away that the dog couldn’t see. The last thing I need is for the dog to get done for arseny or whatever biting builders’ bums is called. He’s normally well behaved. Only a few barking tickets to date. Harmless. But when people move about shouting (as builders and boy bands do) he just freaks.
So what was wrong? They had some bloody machine ticking over all morning. Just ticking over. A low slow hum that was driving me and the dog scatty. The postman couldn’t hear it nor could the woman next door. I must have the hearing of a dog. It would explain why I come when called. And the lamppost thing. And why I’m barred from the local shop for sneaking up behind women rummaging about at the bottom of the ice cream freezer.
It was stressing me out big time. So much so that when an ambulance sped past, lights flashing and siren blaring, into a house down the road, I clicked on BreakingNews.ie on the toolbar. When I realised what I’d done I still didn’t come to my senses. All I could think was fek it, I can’t spare the time for a funeral this week of all weeks. Oh, it’s alright, relax, no-one died - Pádraig just went a bit funny again - he’s been like that since the missis ran off with his cousin, Maura.
Sitting outside the Hall of Pain this afternoon waiting to do the thing, I got talking to a hippe type. I enquired, as is compulsory I’m told, what she was studying. Theology and classical music. Nice mix, I said, trying to get a Handel on the Messiah eh? I’ve never been reported to a supervisor by a nun before. No sense of humour some of these god-squad crowd.
Anyway, that’s it for now. I shouldn’t/won’t (probably will though) post again for a week or so. There’s too much happening elsewhere in blogland to keep everyone busy: Kav’s non-post; Sweary’s new style - sporadicism (my new word); Bock’s new site - which is the mutt’s marbles; Eolaí’s losing his cool - and rightly so; Annie’s posting regularly - though she probably doesn’t realise it; Stephen’s (of the god-squad too, but has a great sense of humour) posted for the first time since finding Barack O’Bama’s ancestor; ah, here, just check out my blog-picks thingy.
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