Driving home for Christmas


For me going home for Christmas has always been a pretty big deal. And until I started working in retail again I was always home and cosy by the fire at least a few days before Christmas Eve with my 
Presents wrapped and the ones under the tree thoroughly inspected . With the notable exception of the year I moved home from Edinburgh and the snow was so bad I almost didn't make it home at all. 
The last two years I have been working right up until Christmas Eve and loving every second of it. Okay maybe not, mostly counting down until I can go home for Christmas and mentally preparing for the trip home. Which mostly 
Involves making lists in my head of what I'll need to bring with me, in order to be better organized of course.

This year was no different. The night before Christmas Eve I had a bag full of clothes packed. Mind you I was tired and sick so I had no idea what I was actually shoving in the bag. I'm lucky I didn't arrive home with only one shoe. and then
Christmas Eve morning before work I packed food, toiletries and presents and
Even an outfit to wear home. All part if a concentrated effort to get home as quickly as possible and get my Christmas on. My dedication to this cause was such that I even went home on my lunch to pack up my car. 

After surviving the longest day ever in work I practically ran home eager to get on the Road. It was all going well. There wasn't much traffic on the quay as I walked home and I made plans to
Stop off and see my sister on my way back to Clonmel. Everything was ready to go, all I needed to do was run in and change my clothes, simples, right ? My door was being a bitch on the way in so I was forced to slam it and I was ready to leave again 5 minutes later . Just one teeny , tiny problem. My front door wouldn't open no matter how hard I pulled it, pushed it and maybe pummelled my fists against it a little. Nothing worked. My car was parked outside all ready to go and I could see it from the tiny window in my door but I couldn't get to it. Grrr. After 30 minutes of trying and failing to leave my own apartment I was able to Conclude two things. Being locked in your own apartment is almost as bad as being locked out( maybe a bit Warmer if no less 
Frustrating ) and I was going to need some help. I had a pretty good feeling that ridiculous as it was that if someone could just try and open it from the other side with my keys then I'd escape and could deal with the dodgy lock another day. unfortunately I didn't actually know any neighbours or have any way  to contact them. So I did the only other thing I could and played the damsel in distress ( which I pretty much was) and asked my boyfriend to call over to try my keys/ possibly kick my door down. Luckily he was available to come to my rescue or I'd have had a pretty shit Christmas. And it was annoying how easily he managed to open my door once the Keys were on the other side. It made me feel very much the hopeless female. On the plus side I was now on the right side of my door and ever so grateful to be finally driving home for Christmas Eve. 
I arrived home only an hour later than planned to a well lit Christmas tree, a warm fire and my dinner being made. My niece was still up fizzing with Christmas excitement. I had to wait till Christmas Eve to start feeling the Christmas spirit but it was worth the wait 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The darker side of romance

Image
  For some reason I felt compelled to write about a corner of my past that hasn't been part of my blog before. a heads up to anyone who might be upset by this topic I will be delving into emotional abuse so feel free to stop reading now if you don't feel able to carry on. When I was in my late 20's I met a guy on a night out. He was a few years younger than me and honestly looking back threw up a couple of red flags early but I didn't trust my own intuition plus I was only a few months away from finishing college and planned to move to Edinburgh in a few months so it wasn't like it was going to be anything more than a brief fling. However as time went on I became more infatuated with him, there was an intensity there and he seemed sweet but damaged. Like a perfect modern fairytale I thought I would be the one to fix him. somehow plans changed and he was going to follow me over to Edinburgh, get a job there and we were going to live happily ever after. at this point
Read more

Help, I think I'm autistic

Image
 So I, at the age of 41, have come to the realization that I am autistic.  Growing up I always had a feeling something about me was a little bit off. I never quite fit in and I wasn't sure why. It was like everyone had been given a book of rules of how to exist in society but no one had thought to hand me a copy. Looking back with hindsight the signs were there. I was a super sensitive kid, a sensitivity I have not lost in adulthood, I cried very easily and felt every emotion very deeply. I was a picky eater and very particular about the textures of different food. I was very sensitive to light and noise and the feel of different fabrics. I was never a hugger. all of these things are as true about me now as they were when I was younger. I am socially awkward, I don't make friends that easily and will joke I am an acquired taste. Eye contact is something I have to actively work on and small talk feels like torture.  I thrive on alone time, I am incredibly sensitive to the moods
Read more

Sometimes I open my mouth and my mother comes out ..

Image
I have been told on more than one occasion that I'm sarcastic. Often that I'm too sarcastic (as though there could be such a thing) and I have retort up my sleeve for such occasions which is if you think I'm sarcastic you should meet my mother. No, really you should because my sarcasm is but a pale imitation of hers. Every so often though I come out without something that makes my friends or other family members pause because sometimes when I open my mouth, my mother comes out.  It's funny how people always take the words you are turning into your mother as such an insult because the reality of the matter is it's a both a good and bad thing. Obviously there are certain qualities I am perfectly happy to emulate and others not so much and on the whole I am not entirely sure how much control I have over it. It's not quite a pick and mix counter here. I think there are some habits you are not even aware you have picked up until someone else kindly points it out.
Read more