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Solutions?

It's been a few days since I wrote anything. Two things happened that caused it: one, an acquaintance of mine who I haven't seen in ages asked me to join his business as a marketing manager - it's not a big business and there is nothing to shout about as I will be working on commission - and two, I caught a cold and I feel just plain awful.

All the time when I'm not managing away or drinking buckets of tea wrapped in a blanket watching CSI I'm scanning all my previous sketches for my online Gallery-That-is-Coming-Soon.

The Church on Sunday

I went to the Church this Sunday.

No, really, I did. It was not a church, it was The Church of the only type you could find me in, a pub/club/restaurant in the city centre.

I have never gone inside before, I passed by it a number of times but never had an opportunity to go in. But since N. was flying out today and we wanted to have a coffee and a chat before, it seemed like a perfect spot, not far off O'Connell's street (and therefore not far from the bus to the airport) and had an outside sitting area and nice coffee.

Bloody fuse and a light bulb

It's after dark. I went to my bedroom to pick up dirty clothes and set the laundry up for the morning. The lights were on in the living room, I had a kettle on, TV and my laptop. When I walked in and switched on the lights, one of the halogens blew and it blew the fuses as well. The only thing that was left on was my laptop - on battery.

I am not my stuff - or am I?

I have recently read (after being pointed to it multiple times by various blogs) a very interesting article in the Washington Post (link below). The article is about a man who compulsively hoarded items and found it difficult to throw anything out, to the point where items took over his life. He tried his best to fight this compulsion and ultimately, failed.

His mantra, when he fought his compulsion, was "I am not my stuff".

Wish me Luck as you wave me goodbye

As I was on my way to lodge some monies into the bank, I was walking down the street and smoking a cigarette.

An elderly man coming from the opposite direction pointed at me with his bony finger and said "You're too young to be smoking!".
"Really?" I said surprised "nobody ever told me that before."
"Well, you might be, and you don't seem to have much money" he stated.
"Why would you say that?"
"Because you're all in the red," he explained pointing at my sweater.
We laughed. "It might be quite true, actually" I confessed.

Who are you, people?

I've been writing for quite a while and this website has been live since 27th of January this year, but since almost nobody ever comments, I have no clue who reads me if anyone. I get hits alright, more than I have ever expected to get at the beginning, but I wish I knew who you people are.

Go baby, go baby, don't upset the beetles

I had another one of those weird lucid dreams recently. A huge beetle (I'd say about a meter long) was climbing up my black skinny jeans while I was sitting on a chair in my old room, back home. It's legs were armed with hooks that made it easier for it to climb up; it was making a screechy sound and I was absolutely paralyzed with fear.

It looked like this, only golden and huge:

The radio was on and the song on was "Don't upset the Beetles" *

Maybe I'm not as smart as I think I am

As I was a kid I had IQ waaaay above the average.

I haven't taken IQ tests since I was 9, so I don't really know if this is still the same or maybe if I had killed my brain cells successfully enough to never reach this score again. Today, drunkenly I took an IQ test online - for entertainment more than anything else - and score meagre 129, just on the border between Above Average and Gifted.

What next?

Since I have been rendered unemployed, I have registered to FAS and been picking up the Dole every Wednesday.
I have been looking for a job but it appears like there is absolutely nothing out there. So, while I'm finishing the French, I've started to look at the courses available in Fas. One in particular has grabbed my attention: Comptia A+.

Légion étrangère

-What was the message you sent me this morning about?
-It's pretty simple, I want to know if you would wait for me five years from now.
-But what for?
-Well I can't tell you until you answer me.
-Then no, I wouldn't.
-I wanted to join the French Foreign Legion.
-What?!
-Légion étrangère, you know.
-Why?!
-I always wanted to.
-Why?!
-I just always wanted to.
-You always wanted to join the army?
-No, specifically the Legion.
-But that's the army!
-I know!
-But it's tough!
-And that's why!
-But it's really tough!
-I know!!!
-Why?!!