There are two moments in my hectic life when I refuse to feel guilty for not being able to do ‘important things’. The first is while I’m getting my hair done. The second is while I’m on a train. There is no better time to relax and reflect on life, and maybe draft a blog or two! This Happy Days update is coming to you from somewhere in the middle of the vast countryside between Limerick Junction and Kent Station, Cork.
Day Twenty-One. Thursday, 13th February. I was only at work about 6 hours and it was decided that there was no need for two managers that evening. Cue the heavens opening, the angels singing and the imaginary crowd of people in my head cheering. A surprise evening off in the hospitality industry is a thing of rarity but must be celebrated. A cup of tea and sleep is a worthy celebration right?!
Day Twenty-Two. Friday, 14th February. Valentine’s Day. Singles Awareness Day. Whatever the 14th of February means to you, it has to be said that everyone (yes, everyone! Don’t lie to yourself!) loves to be gifted something on this day, even if it’s from a friend. This yummy dessert plate is a double whammy for me as it has my name on it. I can never find my name on anything! What can I say, food makes me happy 🙂
Day Twenty-Three. Saturday, 15th February. Someone gave me a compliment today. “Nice bag, Charlene” this person said. “You always have lovely bags!” I will not refute this statement; I do have some pretty fabulous handbags. But instead of thanking this person, I burst into a fit of laughter, along with my colleague beside me, because of the sheer unlikeliness of these words being uttered from the mouth of this tall, sturdy, manly man who had never expressed an interest in any of my bags in the two years that I’ve known him! He’s come out of the proverbial fashion closet!
Day Twenty-Four. Sunday, 16th February. I’m a bit of a bookworm. I love to read, and have hundred of books in lovingly squished into every nook and cranny. Since getting my iPad, I tend to just download them onto the Kindle app because I read the most when I’m traveling. However, I was missing that book smell and the feel of leafing through the pages! Then this came along – Honeysuckle to Handcuffs – a true story about an Irish illegal immigrant in the U.S. I have yet to read it (I must finish The Book Thief first!) but it was how it came into my possession that made me happy. The author came into my place of work and left a few copies of her book (aka her life story!) with us to put in our library. She briefly gave us a synopsis of the novel (it sounds surreal – you couldn’t make it up), then signed them and left them to distribute as we see fit! The key to a good novel is making the main character come alive, and seeing as I have met her, I really hope this book does not disappoint!
Day Twenty-Five. Monday, 17th February. When I was 10 years old, I attended a birthday party in ‘Pompeii Paints’, one of these pottery painting places. I spent ages mixing all my colours to create the perfect pig pink before painstakingly ensuring that I painted enough coats for the desired look I was going for. I’ve always been a bit of a perfectionist, and I had visions of keeping this little piggy bank for years to come. It was going to be something that I would be proud of forever, and not embarrassed by when I was twenty, and like, old! I will never forget looking around at my friends, feeling slightly superior that I did not choose the childish let’s-just-use-all-the-paint-and-see-what-happens approach. They were mixing paint with their fingers, putting it on each other’s faces, and splashing it all over their porcelain pieces. Suddenly, two girls who worked there came over and gave out to me for not being “creative” and they tried to help me by picking up a paintbrush and dipping it into some blue paint. BLUE?! Have you ever seen a blue pig?! I don’t think so! My quiet 10 year old self politely explained that I didn’t want a blue pig, thank you, and continued to perfect my project with little strokes. Even though I was happy that my little pig wasn’t ruined, I was made feel like I had done something wrong. My little pottery pig has been on display in my bedroom ever since as a reminder that it’s ok not to conform. It’s ok to not do something if you don’t want to! And Monday, I used my piggy-bank for the first time, 15 years later! If I had been “creative”, I probably wouldn’t be saving my pennies in it at twenty-five years old! ❤
Until the next time,