(no subject)
Last night was not without incident. I totally blew my top and now all I can do is laugh at myself.
It started when Brendan came into the kitchen to turn on the TV to watch football. I was reading my book, so naturally I was angry. I told him I'd been there first, and that he could go into the sitting room or wear the headphones. We had a big argument; then Brendan said he'd wear the headphones but he was going to turn the volume on them up really loud.
Whereupon I burst into tears and screamed, 'YOU SPITEFUL BASTARD,' and stormed towards the front door shouting, 'I HATE THIS FUCKING HOUSE,' and I walked off into the night. Brendan was shouting, 'You can't just walk off in the dark!' and I could hear Sean saying, 'Can't you just give her a break?' and I was sobbing so hard I walked into a hedge.
But I kept walking down the lane into complete darkness. In my slippers.
I stopped walking where the lane turned, though, because I didn't want to lose sight of the distant house light. I didn't want to go back so I just sat down on the cold, hard lane and cried. When I started shaking with the cold I shuffled back to the house and headed straight up to my room, where Ozzie was waiting for me. Then my mother came home and gave out to Brendan and we all had hot chocolate and the incident wasn't mentioned again.
So that's my temper for you (my Irish temper?) It doesn't show itself all that often but when it does...
----------
The day was spent packing for Italy. I am bringing WAY too many clothes, as usual.
We're not even leaving for another three and a half hours. Brendan is going to go to bed, but I don't see the point.
I can't believe that it's going to be twenty-four hours before I can get into a bed!
I'm excited, but I'm also getting that feeling where I sort of wish I could just stay at home. I always get that feeling.
Well, goodbye, slan leat, adieu, whatever. See you next Sunday.
It started when Brendan came into the kitchen to turn on the TV to watch football. I was reading my book, so naturally I was angry. I told him I'd been there first, and that he could go into the sitting room or wear the headphones. We had a big argument; then Brendan said he'd wear the headphones but he was going to turn the volume on them up really loud.
Whereupon I burst into tears and screamed, 'YOU SPITEFUL BASTARD,' and stormed towards the front door shouting, 'I HATE THIS FUCKING HOUSE,' and I walked off into the night. Brendan was shouting, 'You can't just walk off in the dark!' and I could hear Sean saying, 'Can't you just give her a break?' and I was sobbing so hard I walked into a hedge.
But I kept walking down the lane into complete darkness. In my slippers.
I stopped walking where the lane turned, though, because I didn't want to lose sight of the distant house light. I didn't want to go back so I just sat down on the cold, hard lane and cried. When I started shaking with the cold I shuffled back to the house and headed straight up to my room, where Ozzie was waiting for me. Then my mother came home and gave out to Brendan and we all had hot chocolate and the incident wasn't mentioned again.
So that's my temper for you (my Irish temper?) It doesn't show itself all that often but when it does...
----------
The day was spent packing for Italy. I am bringing WAY too many clothes, as usual.
We're not even leaving for another three and a half hours. Brendan is going to go to bed, but I don't see the point.
I can't believe that it's going to be twenty-four hours before I can get into a bed!
I'm excited, but I'm also getting that feeling where I sort of wish I could just stay at home. I always get that feeling.
Well, goodbye, slan leat, adieu, whatever. See you next Sunday.