The plan was very simple. Take a week off work whilst the going was good, indulge myself in high brow activity and return to the office a hero. Fresher faced, slimmer and despite the medical impossibility, taller. I even went a euro over budget in the shopping on coffee, just to make sure that I got that extra boost every morning. I also ironed my underpants.
It was a simple plan. Wake each morning in the AM. 8.30 would be fine. Shower,and linger, allowing the smooth fragrance of lemon and tea tree oil impregnate my skin. Dress, like a proud sailor, giving significant time to admire in mirror. Emerge from my rooms of impeccable grooming into the soft glow of a yawning morning and head for stage one of Disgraces 'week off work super plan', the Gym. After flexing and galloping for an hour, I would tease the gentlemen of LA Fitness with my remarkable presence and feeling refreshed, marathon ready and as buff as a racehorse, would ditch the the gym bag and head straight into the eye of an intellectual storm. Day one, i thought, Marshes Library. I'd soak up history. Day 2, The Hugh Lane, I would deliberately loiter and allow the art to rape my senses. Day 3, IMMA, here I would sip a coffee and laugh to myself, like a madman, but look like a pretty cool art dude. Day 4, Collins Barracks. Day 5, the Zoo. All of these excursions would be followed by my arrival at a coffee house, with laptop, where I would alternate from writing my book and winking at the lovely ladies. After my coffee and wordsmithery, I would return home to a meal that involved lots of chopping, squeezing and green things. After dinner, I would put on a Tux and hit the bricks. The city would open up to me like an overpaid prostitute and I would simply charm my way through the night, eventually ending up in bed and wondering how I would get home..
It was indeed a simple plan.
So, why oh why, am I waking each day just as Prime Time is starting, eating a deep pan goodfellas, in only my underpants, and cranking up the Xbox...
Still, at least I'm back blogging.
8 comments:
Ah, welcome back. Just in time for my sabbatical.
Why is this article/blog called "Def Leppard"? Just curious.
Well, the planet couldn't possibly deal with both of us MIA Thrifty. Were you off to, Courtown?
Jane, I have no idea. Maybe it's the recession?
huzzah! you're back! etc.
i'm still sulking a little that you left me in the first place, but am suitably reassured to read that nothing's changed.
Joining a french monastic order. I blame "the name of the rose".
I'm glad you're back-I check in every now and then just to see...
Welcome back!
Underpants??
Your fookin Majesty!
Guess I jumped the gun a bit... not really back, am I?
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