shiny blogging nonsense

I didn't know my Granddad growing up. He was there, walking around, cap in hand, or sitting in his chair, but I didn't know him. My mother told me that he was always talking and playing with them when they were children. I couldn't believe it. When my cousin was born almost 18 years ago, when I was 13, my Granddad came back to life. A child around the house again stirred him out of his quiet. I continued to ignore him. I had no memories of him speaking to me kindly or bouncing me on his knee, so why should I bother I thought? When my Granny got sick 13 years ago, when I was 18, he would get up before her, make tea and bring it to her in bed. He'd light the fire and feed the animals and other jobs she used to do. I didn't come down, I couldn't bear to see her that way, weak and without her hair. Over the years he softened and so did I. I grew up and realised a number of things. That my teenage angst had gotten in the way of me knowing this man, my mother

The previous head of my department used to preface delivering bad news by saying ‘the good news is we’re getting paid this month’ as if this was enough. Another personal favourite is ‘aren’t you lucky to have a job’ and yes, I am. I am very aware and glad of that.  I’m also lucky that I don’t have any major commitments, bar keeping a roof above my head, clothes on my back and, one that is very important to me, not starving. I’ve no mouths to feed, no debt that can’t be wiped with either savings or selling back what they paid for. So, all in all, I’m in a good position. Aren’t I lucky? However, I [insert favoured expletive here] HATE my job at the moment! Even my manager agrees that no one really sets out to be a banker, it just happens. So when you realise that it’s absolutely, positively, not what you want to do with your life in the middle of a recession caused by people higher up and better paid in the very industry you work in, what do you do? Many people blame ‘T

Over the last couple of weeks I've been sick, which is fair enough you say, it's the time of year, the change of weather and so on. However, the mixture of symptoms has been just odd. Last Sunday, going into Monday I had an earache, which at first I assumed was just a reaction to going back to work after a good weekend.  I woke up on Tuesday morning, at 6am, feeling tummy sick. For the next few days the earache and nausea continued, leaving me thinking 'but they don't go!'. Then on Sunday evening, just gone, I was sitting watching TV in my folks' after a roast dinner and all of a sudden there was a disco in my left eye. A spiky circle of flashing light, with some colouredy bits. Techno techno. There it was, a migraine. So I took off to a dark room and an early night.  Woke up yesterday morning and the migraine appeared to be gone, only to be replaced by a very sore and swollen throat! Ok, I thought, I'd rather the sore throat than the migraine. It hung a

I have worked with many people over the years who I would quite happily throw out the window if my life was a cartoon, which unfortunately it is not. Two of these people stick out, who I’m sure everyone can relate to. If you look around the office and you don’t know who this person is, it’s you. First, we'll meet Ms Talks-A-Lot... You know what she had for dinner last night, what she did for the weekend, what she’s doing next weekend, what she’s wearing to her friend’s wedding, where she went on holidays, where she’s going on holidays, what her other half does for a living, what days he plays football, what her kids are getting from Santa, what colour she’s painting the spare room, what carpet she’s getting for the hall, stairs and landing, what she had for breakfast, what diet she’s on this week, all about her health issues, what she thinks of Cheryl Cole, Colleen Rooney, Desperate Housewives and every other television programme known to woman. She knows you wo

I work with a guy, who no matter what you say is wrong with you (including, today, having ‘The Fields of Athenry’ stuck in your head) says ‘there’s nothing worse’. So leaving broken limbs and falling off heads aside, here’s a countdown of my current top ten of ‘there’s nothing worse’. 10. Having a song stuck in your head – This really depends on the song and what you associate with it. If it’s a four word loop of something by the Cheeky Girls, Whigfield or, to be more current, Jedward, then that’s seriously head wrecking. However, if it’s a song that reminds you of something or someone good or if it’s along the lines of ‘We Are the Champions’ then it’s fantastic! 9. Getting to the phone as it stops ringing – This is made worse when you then go to call the person straight back and you can’t get them because they’re leaving you a voicemail, are ringing someone else or have just dropped the phone and ran away, as some stand up comedian once said.  8. Banged knee – I us

There’s nothing worse than fally down socks. Ok, so there are actually lots of things worse, but for the purposes of today’s discussion there isn’t. I don’t know what causes fally down socks, but they are such a pain and so random. You buy a packet of socks in a packet of three and the pair with the pink toes and heels falls down, but the plain pair and the blue toes and heels ones are fine. Sometimes it’s just one of the pair and it seems not to matter which foot it’s on, left or right, it’ll still slip down under your shoe and bunch up under your instep. I think they’re worse on rainy days too, somehow affected by the damp? Making them swell or soften or something, to make them extra fally. Also, they’re worse on rainy days because you can’t put your bag on the ground while pulling them up or you have an umbrella to manoeuvre as you do so and you end up poking yourself in the eye or someone else in the behind. You always mean to throw them out too, but you can’t bri

Do you ever have one of those days where the grass seems greener and the flowers are smiling up at you? Sometimes there's a reason, sometimes there's not, but you just feel good. You walk tall, you smile at strangers, you chat to shop assistants and apologise profusely to anyone you bump into because you didn't see them as you floated along. Those days are so much better than the other days. On the other days I'd hate to meet stupidly happy floaty me. Walking along, head in the clouds, banging into people with her big happy head on her!

I didn’t want my first proper blog to be about work, but sometimes life doesn’t turn out how you plan, which is sort of what this blog is about. Stupid, annoying irony! I’m 31 years of age and I still don’t know what I want to do when I grow up. When I was actually growing up I wanted to be a shopkeeper, so I could eat all the strawberry jam; a doctor, choosing biology and chemistry for the Leaving to assist; a psychologist, but my uncle convinced me there was no money in it; a teacher. After two years (both first year mind) studying French and Irish, the teaching idea long forgotten, I changed course and decided on a degree in Business Studies. During college I got a part time job, as you do, which involved telephones, typing, numbing of mind, having a laugh, going to the pub and generally flittering away my brain cells and whatever I was paid for my 16 hours a week. Then suddenly, college was over and I was going to have to get a real job. I figured September or October would be