A Midsummer Night's Day Dream

Another summer Monday...another day of feeling dazed and confused in a half-empty office wishing I was anywhere but here. In summer all office work seems to move more slowly. With so many people taking holidays decisions take longer, it's harder to 'touch base' with people and to get feedback.. (Don't ya just love office jargon?)

Why don't more offices just shut down for a month in summer? It would give everyone a decent break without having to worry about what emails they might be missing. It would be something to look forward to and would rejuvenate the workforce in a big way. So little work gets done in summer anyway - seriously I think I'm on to something here.

Saying all of that - if I had this June off and was spending it in Ireland I'd be pretty ticked off - the weather has been anything but summery; chilly temperatures, heavy rain and, over the weekend, howling gales. I made the brave step of actually walking to work this morning (a pleasant 30 minute walk) - for a car-dependent like me this was big. I want to do this every day, both to give me more exercise and to quit using the petrol-guzzler so much, but the forecast for the rest of the week? 'Spells of heavy rain in many areas'. Why must the weather gods taunt me so?


Midsummer night has come and gone - the days will be getting shorter from here on in - there's a cheery thought. We spent the 21st doing a pub crawl along the Red Luas Line for a mate's birthday - 7 pubs in 7 hours taking us from Goldenbridge in as far as the Jervis stop. Living by the Luas is great - an all day ticket costs a mere 5eur. I could go to Tallaght, Smithfield or Dundrum all in a single day...it might be more excitement then I can handle.

The folks came up to check out the house on Friday and were duly impressed by its 1940's Dublin splendour. They also got to meet the beau and, despite the efforts of mates to scare the Yank off with talk of my mother, all got on well. Phew. He pretended to be interested in sport so as to win over my brother and father, I gently kicked my mother under the table anytime she said something like: 'Why is it Americans are so fat anyway?'.

Duty done.


For now anyway.



Culturally speaking:
Theatre: Going to see The Weir in the Gate on Tuesday - directed by Garry Hynes with a terrific cast. High expectations for this one.
Reading: Innocent When you Dream - collected interviews of Tom Waits. One to dip in and out of but full of Waits-gems and journalists trying desperately to describe his voice: "...like it was soaked in a vat of bourbon, left hanging in the smokehouse for a few months and then taken outside and run over with a car"...
Listening: Tom Waits - Real Gone - how had I not heard of this album before now? Fantastic.