There are some days when I wonder how I stay sane. Then there are days when I know most people already think I’m a bit mad so its fine. I don’t need to justify the hair tearing, stressed out person that is me.

In the last hour I have had some lovely phone calls with the wife and the kid. The wife is stressing herself out completly over trying to get Broadband set up in her work place. Is this her job? No. Does she get paid for this? No. Yet, she is making herself sick with stress over it. To the point where I get the flipping head taken off me when I ask some simple questions. I said it might be in her interest to get a coffee and calm the feck down. I decide to put on some war paint and ring the child. As the phone rings, I get through to her hold music. Which is Tubular Bells by Mike Oldfield. The conversation went something like this.

“Do we need anything at home, like bread?”
Surly silence, I can actually see the pout.
“No”
“We don’t need bread?”
“Okay, we need bread and milk”
“Fine, what are you up to?”
“On the compuer”
More surly silences and I’m sure followed by murderous glares at the phone.
“Doing?”
“Downloading pictures, what I do on my DAYS OFF” Her voice raised slightly towards to end and I felt
sure I could here some ominous music playing in the background. Was it my imagination or did it just
get darker outside? I thought I felt a pain in my chest but I was sure I had asked her to get rid of that
voodoo doll last year during a fit of spring cleaning. You never can tell with these wiccans.
“I see, and what about study”
“I’ll do that this evening when I’m finished hanging.”
“I see, and when do you plan on ‘hanging’?”
“Today, as its my DAY OFF”
Only for I would have self combusted on the spot I was going to ask
“Do you have a day off or something?” I managed to prevent myself
“Right, so be back in time for your grind”
“I (insert bad word here ) told you I’m not doing any more (insert bad word here ) grinds”
“Be home before your grind or I’ll ground you. Understand?”
Another surly silences.
“Fine.”
“5.30″
“WHAT? The grind isn’t until 7″
“We want to talk to you”
“About WHAT exactly, you only ever want to ‘talk’ to me when I’m in trouble”
“About your study or lack there of”
“Fine. Bye”

I’d like to take this opportunity to thank my mother for who was like a parent to me for my whole life, to my wife for putting up with my madness and for all you good people out there. Its been a long and fruitful life but when its time for you to go you must accept it graciously.

I do have one plan that might stop my certain death at this stage though. I could ask Mammy2 about the broadband as we enter the apartment, perform the rolling dive and crouch I was thought in the FCA to avoid any potatoes that might be thrown our way and await the fallout. My money is on Mammy2, the kid grew up in Athlone , Mammy2 in Killbarrack. Enough said.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, March 28th, 2007 at 11:59 am You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.