Sunday, September 28, 2008

Heaven knows I'm miserable now.

Ollie just texted me.

'Your last day.' it read. The fucker. He knows.

I'm back in work tomorrow, and the dread is building in me hourly. Not at the work itself, you understand. This December I'll be eight years in Setanta, so familiarity breeds a kind of comfort.

What I dread is the end of four months off, four months that landed differently in reality to how I'd planned them. The two months abroad turned into four broken up weeks, hotel rooms and trekking and drinking watching people walking.

Salzburg and Antwerp will see me again. So will Paris. Strasbourg too was enchanting, but Marseille and Brussels, Bruges and Vienna all left me a little bit cold.

Summer good times:

1) Dingle with Dave and Emma, then my da. Drinking down by the harbour, and busting my lip in An Droichead Beag and being so drunk I laughed about it.

2) Euro 2008. Torres with the winner in the final. Get that done.

3) Wicklow with Anne. We took a spin up to see the place where she'll marry John next June. A rural idyll if ever there was one. And she bought me lunch.

4) Heidelberg and Das Fest. OK, the music was pure shite, but Stef was a friendly face in too much alone time.

5) Salzburg. My favourite place from the summer, great food, bars and peoples.

6) Blogging. I've been more prolific than ever, and it helps when there's a loyal little group of commentators. Most of it's been utter shite (my Tropic Thunder review is not me at my most verbose), but one or two I might look back kindly on.

7) Spain. A week with the folks in the sun. Thawly enjoyable.

8) Owen and Emma's wedding. Magic from the Sunday afternoon to the Tuesday morning halflight. And a bit of romance to boot.

9) I nearly forgot, and I'm going to break the chronology. Owen's stag in Galway. We took it to the max, to bring back an old 5X favourite. Jesus. The greatest destruction of my life.

Summer bad times:

1) Gastritis. Still on the tablets.

2) Marseille. Dirty, shitty city where I got ripped off by a Cristiano Ronaldo lookalike.

3) Fleeing Vienna.

4) Belgian woes. I came over all melancholy in Belgium. No reason to it.

5) The Griffith/Setanta conundrum. Offered two classes a week. Only able to do one. And the spy in my class does not help.

6) Wedding aftermath. She's gone back from whence she came.

7) Finishing The Wire - the latest great DVD box-set gone to televisual heaven.

That's all for now.


Susan said...

I meant to ask if you had anything spectacular planned for the Last Day. Good luck tomorrow--hopefully waking up to an alarm clock will be the worst of it, and all happy surprises from there?

Well, I'll hope.

Fleeing Vienna...sounds like a great novel title. I want to hear more.

Radge said...

Thanks Susan, I've planned my day thus..

1) Watch football.

2) Go to shops - need bread and rashers and milk.

3) Watch more football.

4) Compose my class for Tuesday (theme: match coverage).

5) Cook the four cheese ravioli I have in my fridge. Lament the absence of garlic bread.

6) Finish watching Mississippi Burning. Started it last night.

7) Read.

8) Bed.

Can't remember if I already blogged about my last day in Austria. Might try and form something if not.