"In like a lion, out like a lamb."
Sleep did not come last night due to the rain whipping down on the tiny house. Normally, I love the relaxing sound of rain, but here in this abode, the sound is amplified to murderous levels. Imagine a dozen men the size of Barbie dolls on the side of a metal roof. In their hands, shiny metal hammers and nails. When the rain trickled onto the roof, it was as if they were tinkering away with the fury of men under pressure. After a pounding headache and restless sleep, my husband finally rips off the covers and marches outside in his bathrobe with my purple umbrella. Obviously, an umbrella solves all rain problems. I could hear him adjusting the brightly colored anti-water device over our heads - but the tiny men kept tinkering away. At some point the men packed up their tools and went home. I think the umbrella obstructed their work zone.
Earlier that day, I was stopped on the street in town by a whiskered homeless woman. Lady, I am over $20,000 in student debt, have one euro in my Irish account and still, I agreed to buy you a cup of tea and a scone from the coffee shop of your choice. Suddenly, you wanted a bag of chips, then 'a few bits' from Tesco, then you wanted me to go to the ATM for cash since I only had a card. Yet, you wouldn't accept my offer to buy you tea (you just lost your scone privilege). I tried to give you a little bit of happiness in my own way. Can you really blame a young girl for protecting herself? For protecting her debt? And just so you know, the tea money would have come from my husband's card. So thank him for the chance you lost.
My excuse for running away from you was I had to catch the next bus. This was true. So off I went; your voice squealing in the background, angry mutterings firing at my back and falling like plastic darts. I hope you found someone to buy you groceries, tea, and a smile.
Several minutes later, I was safe and on the top tier of the bus. Or so that I thought. A cute 3 year old voice squeaked behind me. Heart-melting stuff really - but only for 30 seconds. Fifteen minutes scratched by like nails on a chalkboard. The toddler was now babbling and humming and making all those noises that a child makes to kill time in a somewhat-empty bus. I dashed angry glances over my shoulder at appropriate intervals, hoping the mother would pay attention to the distracting child. Suddenly, I realized no one else cared about the noise because all of the five people on board had earbuds in their preciously protected ears! Why had I not come prepared? Can the bus supply earbuds like airplanes? Alas, the annoyance did not last. The noise machine exited the vehicle and I could wipe the blood from my ears.
March 1st may have contained these three annoyances, but it was also a day full of good things. I was able to pull a little bit of happiness from the day by meeting a friend for lunch and breathing in the fresh sea air. These golden moments don't last forever, but they are enough.
This was very entertaining to read. Love your blogs!