I was supposed to fly to Nice last Thursday. We got to the airport. At 9:30 we went through security gates. At 9:35 our flight was cancelled. At 9:40 we got out of the secure area and went to queue to Aer Lingus gates. The airport was in chaos.

All Ryanair flights to the UK were cancelled and they were rumours of volcanic ash. Volcanic Ash? In the UK? But the nearest semi-active volcano is in Iceland! At the time we didn't know what and why happened - there were no news of anything when we left home. Anyway, why would we be affected by the UK airspace closure if we are flying to the south of France?

E. had his iPhone with and we managed to see some news. Yup, as predicted, the volcano that was responsible for this was indeed in Iceland. It had unpronounceable name. The wind dragged the ash plume all over the UK and was spreading it further south. We met GI. one of my former work colleagues on the airport too, he was supposed to be flying to Berlin that day. At that stage we knew we weren't going anywhere, the flights on the board one by one started to show as cancelled. Aer Lingus employee near to us said we should queue to reschedule the flight for the next available one, that might be either tomorrow or next week. There's no way of knowing, he said.

While queuing we managed to get Aer Lingus on the phone and we changed the flight to Saturday. We were lucky, there were just a few seats left. My feet were killing me and I just wanted to get out of there, but since I wasn't going anywhere I could as well sign up with the welfare lot. On our way back, the driver side window broke and remained open with no chance of closing till we reached Bray and the mechanic down there.

We went to see the welfare lot and by then I was tired, no, exhausted, and all I wanted to do is to kill every public office worker out there for treating me like shit and sink Iceland for the banking crisis and the volcanic fucking ash cloud. I pretty much wanted to shoot everything in sight. With a crossbow. Stealth, you know.

I got some sleep that afternoon on the couch next to E., who snored, while Sky news were announcing more disruptions. We drank a bottle of cognac before we got to know our Saturday flight was not going anywhere and rescheduled for Monday. We monitored the flights carefully and don't know how his but my soul was crushed when I heard that the Monday flight was cancelled as well.

The flights recommenced a week later, when we were supposed to come back already. During this time the weather in Nice was mixed but warm. We managed to come up with plan B but anyway I'm not going anywhere in April. My problems are just where I left them. I'm still awfully lonely, still stuck in Ireland - only now in so many ways - and still not knowing what to do with my life. Today I would be resting from the holiday, instead I'm really, really depressed and my sister is having a baby and everyone but me seems to have great time.

Volcanic fuckin' ash.