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Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans

18 12 2011

While patiently waiting to become a real person again I have found myself doing all sorts of things to bide my time and distract me from the realities of finding a job in this disastrous economy.

Clearly blogging has not been one of these. My Occasionally Genius Sister asked me why I wasn’t keeping up my blog and my answer was sure what on earth would I write about?. I suppose I could blog about how I’ve become an expert on daytime television or my unlikely chats with the postman. Would anyone be remotely interested in these, or how I discovered the loveliest lady on earth working in the supermarket. My engineering of strategic queuing to ensure I’m at her checkout is something I’m certain would not make for engaging reading. Maybe I should ask her to be a guest writer instead…

But now my patience for watching other people buying property in the country or singing bad karaoke in the hope of being famous has worn desperately thin. And in truth I have been doing other things, unremarkable though they are. So this week I’ll attempt a roundup of these activities. When you start shaking with desperation at the tedium let me know and I’ll point you towards the week’s finest afternoon television extravaganza.


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Categories : Boringoldfartsville, Conortje and his shocking lack of direction, conortje's growing laziness

Running to stand still

20 04 2009

I’m making a bigger effort to economise I proudly announced to my Occasionally Stationary Friend during his most recent visit. Over a chilled glass of white wine I explained how I could no longer justify the fees for my yoga class and I’d started buying the cheap brand of spaghetti in a bid to finally inch my way out from debt.

He sat back in his chair taking it all in with another sip of wine. This wine is delicious, what is it? he asked, momentarily distracted from the topic at hand. Isn’t it wonderful I enthused, it’s a 2004 Meursault, €25 a bottle but it’s divine – I wanted to celebrate your visit! I see he said with raised eyebrows so what’s really going on is that you’ve given up exercise in order to afford your expensive taste in wine?

Thinking he might have a point I decided to at least augment my wine recreation with a spot of jogging – free exercise I like to think of it as. I set off with my Occasionally Sleeping Friend last week, full of recession beating optimism. Our route took us past banks of spring flowers in full bloom as we meandered about under leafy trees, up and down forest paths admiring how green everything was. This is so invigorating I thought as we reached the 40 minute mark and chuckled to myself with glee. After an hour I wheezed enthusiastically about how vibrant the grass looked and how much healthier I already felt. After an hour and a half of jogging I could hardly breath any more and my limbs were on the verge of permanently ceasing up. The last stretch almost killed me but the relief was as big as my pride when I finally stumbled in the door catching the look of triumph on my red sweaty face in the mirror. 

I did it! I’m great! I spluttered as I wobbled into the kitchen steadying myself on the counter top while the room began to spin. As I struggled to catch my breath my gaze fell on the clock on the wall and slowly the appalling truth became apparent. We’d only really been gone 20 minutes. 20 minutes? How is that possible when every inch of my body violently ached – this recession is going to kill me!


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Categories : Conortje and his shocking lack of direction, Conortje's embarrassing hypocrisy, conortje's growing laziness, Health, wine

With a little help from my friends

17 02 2009

My friends need to be extremely careful about what they say to me as anything from a passing comment to a light exclamation can see them regretting their words for years to come. My Occasionally Nefarious Friend offered to proofread an assignment I had to do for my master’s course one boozy evening. I immediately sobered up and heard I will edit every single piece of work you do for your masters throughout the next two years. When I was a wee lad and my sister told me she’d support me on my first independent trip to the church for a confession little did she realise that I interpreted that as meaning she’d accompany me into the confessional box and wait while I spilled my misdemeanors (including oddly enough I fought with my sister). My ex Occasionally Better Half is still reading my electricity and gas meters after volunteering once, over five years ago.

When my Occasionally Sleeping Friend made the mistake of casually telling me he loved painting I jumped at the opportunity and before he knew what hit him I had a colour chosen, an area cleared and a paintbrush in his hand. I am a spectacular failure when it comes to painting so I wisely assumed the role of supervisor. This involved rushing about appearing to be busy while he expertly placed masking tape and spoke about primers and gloss coats and other terms that went right over my head and out the door. A door that could also benefit from a touch up I realised – if he didn’t mind so much that is.

Mine was a ridiculously tough role that required picking appropriate painting music and eating my own weight in chocolate. My OSF steadily got the job done as I invented more and more reasons why I couldn’t help. After some time guilt got the upper hand and I accepted that I had better make an attempt at some work and loudly announced that I’d paint that door. I finished said chore in approximately five minutes but only after about half an hour of sighing and moaning about how difficult it was. Upon completion I was bursting with pride. Until I noticed how much paint I’d managed to get on the floor. Quickly covering the ground with a sheet I excitedly called upon my slave friend, figuring I’d earned some praise. That’s a good first coat my OSL said . My heart instantly fell – You mean I have to do it again?

I’m much better at supervising than painting I realised as I swiftly recommenced my role which fortunately did not involve much nasty paint. As the long day came to a close and my kitchen settled into its new look I reckoned that the single greatest contribution to the whole event must surely have been the encouraging words I regularly delivered to my OSF – Just remember, you LOVE painting!


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Categories : conortje's growing laziness, conortje's unfortunate laziness, DIY

God so loved the Idiot Boy

2 02 2009

Sometimes my stupidity is truly dazzling. It is only overshadowed by my acute skills at procrastination. For the last six months or so I have been promising Rosie I’d make her a compilation CD of groovy tunes in thanks for the one she made me. Every few months I’d send her an e mail or a comment on her blog apologising for the delay, assuring her I really hadn’t forgotten. It had been so long since my initial promise that I had gone way past the embarrassment barrier, continued through uncomfortable silence and finally rested precariously in my familiar state of denial.

On Friday, in a tsunami of productivity I finally got it done. No one was more shocked than myself! I chose the song list, burned the CD, made a little cover card for the CD box on coloured paper, fished out her address from an old e mail and queued up in the post office on my lunch break to send it off along with one last apology for my extreme tardiness. I was so relieved and delighted with myself that I sent her an excited e mail announcing that the job was done at last.

I was ridiculously pleased with myself for the rest of the afternoon. It was as if a burden had been lifted from my lazy shoulders. Later on, this new found efficiency encouraged me to tidy up my work desk so I wouldn’t have to deal with too much mess on Monday morning. I made little neat To-Do piles and a separate pile for my filing. I gathered all the loose pens and paper clips and put them in a drawer. I didn’t stop until mine was the neatest desk in the building. Proud of my handiwork I scanned the area one last time before I left for the evening and what did I spy lying boldly on top of one pile of papers but Rosie’s CD.

Which makes me now wonder what I actually did send. The best case scenario is simply an empty CD case. The worst being a disc of a work presentation masquerading as a music CD. Either way I earned yet another feather in my cap of idiocy and yet another apology to her good self.


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Categories : conortje's growing laziness, conortje's stupidity

This mess we’re in

30 01 2009

I am a fabulous tidy-uper! I am a wonder at cleaning and arranging things in neat orderly piles. I can make my home look super pristine and ready for even the toughest inspection. I can do all this. I just simply choose not to do it very often. I live on my own so there is no one to complain if there are clothes strewn about the floor or unopened mail, books and receipts scattered across the table. However, if I know that a friend is coming round then I go into uber-tidying mode so that by the time they arrive I am certain the place looks immaculate. I’ll then act as if that is its normal state and may even make a throwaway comment on how sorry I am that the place is so messy as I ‘accidentally’ spy a dirty coffee cup by the sink. This single dirty item is essential otherwise they’ll catch on that the overly clean and tidy state was newly established in their honour.*

This week however my Occasionally Sleeping Friend unexpectedly rang me to say he was nearby so was going to drop by. I looked about in panic at the chaos I had managed to achieve in the days since returning from Ireland. I had unpacked my suitcase in the middle of the living room meaning there were all sorts of travelling paraphernalia decorating the floor amid the heaps of dirty laundry that lined the apartment. The sink was full of dirty dishes and there was grocery shopping, shoes, lists, crumbs and general living debris everywhere. I attempted to gather up as much as I could and dumped it back in my case quickly hiding it upstairs out of the way as the doorbell rang.

I knew the game was up. He would finally see me for the laziest boy down the road that I am. There’d be no more pretending that my Manhattan-style Loft Apartment was a showcase for a chic and orderly thirty-something lifestyle.  As I went downstairs I became more and more disgusted that I was about to be found out for the slob and fake that I am.

But as I opened the door a calm relief took over. I realised that it meant I’d never have to clean again before he comes round – he’d know my questionable grasp of housekeeping and there’d be no more need to pretend! In fact I’d be able to invite him round more often now that it’d be less hassle. Life is so much simpler if you just accept your natural messiness.

*trademark my ex-occasionally better half, used with permission!


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Categories : Conortje's embarrassing hypocrisy, conortje's growing laziness

I’m only sleeping

20 01 2009

Every January I find myself preaching the advantages of hibernation. I tend to daydream about what it would be like to avoid the dark freezing days and instead have a gorgeous long warm cuddly snooze waking in the spring with renewed hope and a belly ready for a big feed.

This year I subconsciously took the plunge. For the last fortnight I have basically hibernated. I would race home after work, turn up the heating, get under a rug and spend the rest of the evening alternating between watching TV and napping. Occasionally, if I needed to warm my bones I’d have a long lazy bath with lots of bubbles and an entertaining book.

On Saturday I got up so late in the day that it was beginning to get dark again and it was at that moment I reluctantly realised I can’t wait for this elusive Spring any longer – I have to wake myself up! Quit the sleepatahon, get some exercise and start planning for the year ahead. My first goal was to go back to sweaty yoga, which I did yesterday – the first time in a month.  Afterwards I felt totally energised – full of life and optimism. Why didn’t I do this sooner I wondered – it’s so much better than hibernating. I felt so alive!

But that was yesterday. This morning as I fell out of bed I realised that just about every muscle in my body ached. For the last month the most I’d stretched was my arm to the back of the fridge or my index finger on the remote control. Yesterday’s yoga session had my body declaring a state of emergency. Looking at my computer screen at work I noticed that now even my neck muscles ache, not to mention a bizarrely localised spot on my ribs that was protesting yesterday’s activity with a dull throb.

I’m comforting myself with the thought that I’ll be able to flee home to the warm safety of my couch in only a few hours. Spring doesn’t officially start for ages yet, I could easily fit in another few weeks of serial napping.


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Categories : conortje's growing laziness, sleeping


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