don’t go up there

Yesterday my friend emailed me and asked about my new roommate. I wrote a reply, explaining how his food had been in the fridge since Thursday or so, but I hadn’t seen him or heard a door or anything and OH GOD WHAT IF SOMETHING HAPPENED TO HIM. Immediately I imagined him sprawled out dead on the floor, and once I got back upstairs, I tapped uncertainly on Door #1. No answer. I tried Door #2. Still no answer. I resolved to stop in reception tomorrow morning to ask about him, because it was highly unlikely that he was dead, but what if.

And then at 10:30, the front door opened. A bedroom door closed. And I lunged down the hall and knocked and met my very much alive roommate who had spent 5 days at home instead of a weekend. I was so relieved that he wasn’t dead or a 28-year-old construction worker – heck, I was relieved to actually have someone to talk to – that we just stood in the hall for another half-hour talking about the 20th-century American Literature exam he’s re-taking at the end of the month, along with the role of alcohol in various cultures, and this gem:

“So have ye been to the north side?”
“A little – I went and saw Shandon Bells – ”
“Oh, no, that’s not north, I mean north-north. Don’t go up there – there’s horses running everywhere, kids driving cars with guns hanging out the windows – ”
“Oh!”
“Yeah. Don’t go there.”
“No problem. Glad you told me.”

He actually arrived at a good time, because with the new arrival at work, we’re short one office computer. I’ve been relegated to the “resource room” upstairs, which has two Mesolithic-era Dells, neither of which are connected to the regular server. I have to make sure I’ve emailed all my work to myself in the mornings. I spent the afternoon working on the first edition of the alumni newsletter, only to save it into some mysterious file at the end of the day and have all traces of it vanish. And the cherry on top – I’m the only one in there. No chatting with Valerie or overhearing Kaitlin talk about her 60 (!) cousins or trying to help visiting students. So it’ll be nice to know there’s someone else around to talk to.

Hopefully all this will change next week, though, because someone else will be going on holiday and then I can request my old computer back.

It’s probably stating the obvious to say a 4-day week is going quickly, but it sort of is. I’ve been trying to figure out my weekend plan, but it turns out there’s really no good way to get to Galway from here. There’s a bus that goes through Limerick, but that ride takes about 4 hours. I’d definitely have to stay overnight. The other option is to take the train, which will cost anywhere between 45-65 euro and, for some reason, goes out to Dublin before cutting back across the Galway.

I’m hoping the weather will hold out and I can just hop the bus and to to the beach at Youghal.

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2 thoughts on “don’t go up there

  1. Oh, go on, Galway’s a lovely place to spend the weekend. The YHA hostel was clean and safe-feeling, by my memory, and within easy walking distance of the main shopping/tourist/pubs centre (High St/Shop St). I happily spent a good few days just around there. You could also catch a ferry to Inishmore, the Aran Islands, probably my favourite place in Ireland by far.

    • I would really like to, but I seriously can’t find a good way to get there. The bus times are all kinds of weird, and the train is too expensive. Ryan Air doesn’t even fly between Cork and Shannon. Grr.

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