Alone time
I was both looking forward to and dreading this weekend and the Thursday before. Mammy2 was heading off to Paris with her Mam and sisters for a birthday present to her Mam and I was to be home alone for the first time in ages. I can’t honestly remember the last time I had this much time on
my hands. As a result, there was a lot of tidying but also of chilling out. I thought initially I would be giving some of the mates a shout to hang out with. I did give the good mate J a shout on the Thursday but by the time the evening came, I went training and flaked on the couch adjusting to the
empty apartment. I did miss Mammy2 more then I thought as well. I got txts from her, letting me know how she was getting on and how much of a good time they were having and her Mam was in heaven. Having never been to Paris, I’d say she was loving it.
Work has calmed down which leaves me with a lot of time on my hands during the day, which gives me a chance to learn some new stuff. CMS, or Content Managment Systems are my latest project. There’s a lot in it so I am taking it slow but it gives me something to focus on when work
is slow. On the way home from work on Friday night, I changed my route home to take in Henry street and was chuffed to see the christmas lights up. Txted a few peeps about it, including the mate A. She txted me back on Sat morning asking if I was around town as she was on a rare trip to the city for a salsa workshop. Met up with her after getting walloped at training and it was great to see her. She’s one of those people that everyone wants to hang out, she’s such a lovely person. We had lunch in Curved St Cafe and having never been before I must say I was impressed. Food was really good and soup was homemade. I wasn’t impressed with that, I like my soup from the cup-a category 
I introduced her to the joys of Urban Outfitters and left her to her shopping whilst I went and got my mullet re-styled. The hairdresser woman remembered me. I was unsure which I was impressed or scared. I mean, she’s a hairdresser, they must go through about 12-15 people daily. She’s very nice though apart from the need for small talk. As everyone knows I am famed for my smalltalk.
The kid rang then, we were meeting for dinner and perhaps a trip to the cinema. It was all very adult
espeically when it involves the kid.
She had to head home and drop off her stuff, this put the fear of god into me. Having spent the last 2 days making the apartment spotless and tidy, I dreaded to see what state she had left the place, whirling in and back out in record time. She met me in The Morrison where I had went after shopping
for a sit down and a read of the paper. The weather was shocking, so we both decided that the cinema wasn’t a good idea. We caught up on all the goings ons, when I say we caught up, I mean she talked and I listened. Its strange to hear her about talk money and understand what’s going on with it. I think she’s beginning to appreciate how much we spent on her. Perhaps not. Herself and the man are getting along very well, when you consider they are living with each other and both of them aren’t working at the moment. I don’t know if I could do it to be honest, 24/7 with your partner. But its working for them. Thank god. We bought some munchies and headed back to the apartment where she disppeared into the internet and I read the paper and expressed my shock at various stories. Her level of interest in any of the stories was minimal, judging by the hmmm and the yeah coming from her. The only story that provoked any kid of reaction from her was the one I told her about overhearing in Easons.
I was queueing up in Easons when this conversation took place within earshot between a security guard and a local dublin chap for want of a better description.
“I mean, there’s no such thing as gay people right”
Security man nods. I take this as a sign he’s merely going along with aforementioned idiot.
“Like when you see two women, one of them is a man, you know? Not like on the telly, na, you never see women like them as lesbians and as for the gay men” cue prancing like an idiot waving hands in the air
“one of them is always the bitch”
More nodding followed by the security man finally revealing his true feelings
“Do you get many of them in Finglas”
“Nah, thank god, that’s the one thing I have to say for the place is we have none of them. If we did, I’d be out poking them with my stick”
My initial reaction was of sadness and annoyence. How are he judge us and talk about us as if we were aliens. Cheeky fecker. My sadness changed to anger pretty quickly. Who was he to say that what we were was wrong. How on earth was my loving Mammy2 and going about my daily business doing anything to him? Or perhap he was just like everyone else, everyone has an opinion on everything. There’s no point in over -analysis as you’ll only wreck your head.
Today I was thinking about how much I missed the kid, I personally blame too much time byself for this feeling. It soon went when I was in her room and I noticed make up all over the new duvet set after she telling me she wasn’t going to put any on it. Her room was like a tornado hit it. I sighed and closed the door. Some things will never change. She’s gone to Fibbers tonight, poured into some corset she loves. As she had no money, I gave her some making sure she wasn’t going to
get hammered. Thankfully the boyf is meeting her there and he’s a good influence. They are coming back here and staying over then as she has to go to the dole office again tomorrow for means testing and to give them more details on us. They apparently have to check what we are getting paid. I understand the need for all these checks and stuff but it annoys me sometimes. When Mam passed away, we couldn’t even get the funeral grant, which apparently everyone is entitled to.
We got no allowences with the exception of the children’s allowence, and now the minute she has to apply for anything, suddenly we’re looked on as a ‘family’. Hopefully it won’t affect what she gets. She’s been applying loads of places in fairness to her, but coming up to christmas is always a bad time.
