I slept until 11.15 this morning, I'm in Limerick.
Since losing my job I haven't stayed in the bed past 9.30. Call it my zeal to seek re-employment, call it my internet addiction, call it that first mug of Strength 5 Café Direct coffee, call it what you want but I can't sleep in when I'm in Dublin.
There's too much to the days up there, and I don't have my da in the flat ushering more whiskey down my throat and serving me up onion bhajis at midnight.
I don't have my mam's cheesy chicken and scallop potatoes.
Instead I have a slightly lumpy mattress and neighbours that whoop and holler to the strains of Jamie T at 3 in the fucking morning.
Someone remind me why I'm heading back up this evening...