My Kryptonite

Allow me to introduce my arch-nemesis.

Yes, that is correct. I am plagued by spiky, scary-looking balls of mysterious composition.

Irritant, bastarding, invisible specks.

aka

POLLEN

Its that time of year again. If you are one of those blessed individuals who does not and has never suffered from hayfever,

(or seasonal allergic rhinitis – my dramatic soul enjoys the more serious-sounding title)

be thankful.

Also, if you tell me that rubbing my eyes isn’t going to make them stop itching, I may very well punch you in the face.

If, like me, you are reading this through puffy, itchy eyes while sneezing approximately twelve times per minute – well, let’s just take a moment to feel sorry for ourselves, shall we?

Six Things I Hate About Hayfever

(in no particular order)

1. Itchy Eyes

Agh. Agh. AAAAGGGH. There is nothing like it. Constant and relentless. Try as you might, you WILL rub them. Just a little, you think. Just one teensy rub will definitely relieve this torture.

Wrong.

Just over halfway through June and already I have constantly swollen and bloodshot old-lady eyes.

2. Timing is Everything

We all know that the sun only ever shines in Ireland during exam season. This coincides nicely with Mr Hayfever, who shows up and unpacks his bags on June 1st and makes himself at home for the ensuing four to five weeks. For this time I am obliged to hide my puffy miserable face away indoors while everyone else goes to the beach and eats lots of ice cream. This feels similar to being allergic to presents at Christmas. By the time I emerge in early to mid July, the sun has taken his business elsewhere and everyone is settling into another eleven-month Rainy Season.

3. Sneezing

Teach me your ways, Demetri

To quote the fabulous Demetri Martin in his masterful song, “Sames and Opposites”:

“Earrings are the same as sneezes: two is okay, but ten in a row is annoying.”

I don’t have particularly strong feelings on multiple piercings.

Constant sneezing is very annoying though.

4. Cosmetic Crises

Okay, this is a bit of a girly one. But I’ll admit it: I love my eyeliner. And my eyeshadow. And my mascara.  And I hate hate HATE that for the month of June I’m forced to either just stop wearing it, or accept that at some point during the day/night it will end up smeared all over the top half of my puffy, inflamed face. This may be very amusing to my friends and family, but it is very upsetting for me and very frightening for small children.

5. I’m Not Contagious, I Swear!

I don’t blame them. I’ve probably done it myself. But I can feel people silently taking note of my sneeze-attacks and constant nose-blowing and trying to shuffle quietly away from me in order to avoid being infected with whatever pathogens I’m harbouring. It’s like (an extremely mild) form of leprosy.

6. Unpleasant Remedies

The only thing that comes close to easing my symptoms (for a little while at least) is a nasal spray that tastes like liquid grass when it hits the back of my throat. Eeeeww. Also, spraying mysterious liquids into one’s nose is generally not regarded as socially acceptable behaviour; so if a private place is not immediately available, emergency administration inevitably increases my leper-like status (see above).

So, to sum up…

MOOOOOOOAN…WHIIIIIINGE…COMPLAAAAAAIN…

a-TISH-oo!

A Wasted Day

Oh dear.

Ever had one of those days? You know, where you feel that if you were to look back over your life, right before you died, you’d come to this day and think,

“What a total waste. I can’t believe I frittered away all those hours on absolutely nothing.”

One of those days where it feels like you’ve got no places to go or people to see.

I’ve had plenty of days where I haven’t achieved anything in particular but have felt satisfied that I’ve used my time well, whether it was just being with someone special, or doing something I enjoy, or taking a break from something that’s been stressing me out.

But days like today…nothing excites me. I drift around my house, looking for things to do, then looking for reasons not

Image courtesy of http://www.rgbstock.com/gallery/melodi2

to do them. I’m not motivated enough to follow through with anything I start and leave a trail of half-finished projects behind. I seem to be incapable of creating anything worth sharing or doing anything worth doing. I find myself wandering Facebook aimlessly and suddenly, an hour later, I’m checking out the holiday photos of some friend of an acquaintance, who would undoubtedly be unimpressed by my creeping.

Staying in is dull, going out is hassle.

I try to remind myself on days like these that the number of hours I have to live is in fact finite, and I’m wasting precious, precious time. It makes me feel angry at myself and also vaguely guilty. And yet nothing seems strong enough to snap me out of it. The worst part is, I know that when this spell of unemployment comes to an end (and it must…eventually…right??), I’ll be longing for days like this, full of free time that I can use to do anything I want…and yet today, I can’t think of anything I want to do.

Before anyone writes me off as a spoilt brat who needs to be entertained 24/7, I’d like to assert that thankfully, these days are pretty rare. Although I’m currently in the midst of my longest period of time (6 weeks – feels like so much longer!) not in full-time employment or education since the summer I was fourteen, up until now I haven’t had trouble filling my days.

Maybe because when I was growing up, the word “bored” was illegal in our house, I’ve always been able to think of ways to amuse myself. Also, being pretty poor at sports and a more-awkward-than-most teenager meant that I’ve always opted for pretty solitary leisure pursuits. So, asides from spending long hours drafting and re-drafting CVs and cover letters for every job imaginable, I’ve kept myself occupied by:

• Reading books I’d been meaning for ages to read (Catch 22 is mind-blowing, The Talented Mr Ripley ain’t too shabby either)
• 

  Image courtesy of http://www.rgbstock.com/gallery/leocub

  Re-learning to play the piano (ever so much more satisfying when there isn’t a hatchet faced woman sitting next to you rapping your knuckles with a little stick)

• Re-attempting to teach myself guitar (My Lovely Horse is trickier than it appears; however, I’m comforted by the belief that any little plucking or strumming inaccuracies are covered up by my loud singing)
• Lunching, picnicking and generally hanging out with sound people (although the number of such people who are as unemployed as me is sadly dwindling)
• Refining some of my scribblings from the past few years and attempting to put them together to form something a bit more substantial (sure we’ll see how that goes)
  

  Where have they been all my life?

• Discovering wonderful films and television about a million years after the hype has died (Flight of the Conchords? Yes please.)
• Walking around Dublin (and occasionally sitting in cafés and eavesdropping – clichéd but true…and fun!)
• Pottering about the kitchen and doing the odd bit of laundry so that my family are in awe of my domestic goddess-ness (yeah, they’re definitely in awe, I’m sure of it)
• Sifting through four years worth of handouts, journal articles, assignments and God knows what other paperwork I accumulated in college and attempting to impose some semblance of order
• 

  Image courtesy of rgbstock.com/gallery/johnnyberg

  Tending to my sunflowers (they live on my kitchen windowsill and take up more time than you’d think; the day they bloom I’m going to have a party)

• And of course, discovering the endless entertainment and education to be gained from reading (and occasionally writing) lovely blogs.

Sadly, none of the above pursuits were enough to engage me today. Personally, I blame my Dad for making me lunch at 11:30 before I had even eaten breakfast and thereby upsetting my whole sense of routine. God, what a thoughtless bastard.

Ah well. There’s always tomorrow. 😉

Neurotic Panic Attack #1 (update)

I didn’t get the telesales job. Needless to say, alcohol has been consumed.

Image courtesy of Sanja Gjenero, http://www.rgbstock.com/gallery/lusi

Neurotic Panic Attack #1: Career

What am I going to do with my life?

I spent the last four years training to do a job I don’t want to do. I’m not particularly good at it either. I can’t think of anything else I do want to do except things I’m clearly not very good at. I’ve applied for approximately 37 jobs in the last 24 hours and am currently crossing my fingers for consideration for a 12 hour telesales post. If something doesn’t happen soon I’m going to end up living with my parents for the rest of my life…

Feminists, look away now…

Happily, Monday was not as bad as I had feared (they rarely are). Sadly, it was followed by Tuesday and…is it still only Tuesday? Counting down the days (seven) left in my current bout of enslavement (ie practice education placement). Spent the evening reflecting on how if I ever have children, I will instruct them to put all their energy into marrying someone rich and therefore avoid having to ever get a job. I reckon its too late for me, having already wasted the best years of my life on education (what was I thinking?!) and developed too many opinions and arguments to ever convince any sensible man to marry me, never mind a wealthy one.

(That moan took an odd turn, didn’t it…)

Hate that Sunday night feeling…

Surely there are more fulfilling ways to spend the dying moments of my weekend than watching poor Mikey get booted off Dancing on Ice…ah, I know, I’ll start a blog.

Quite a negative first entry, but with Monday morning looming I can’t think of anything particularly positive to say. Especially with a couple of particularly unpleasant events lined up in said morning…wish me luck!