It came from nowhere.
I had a few plans.
It just seemed like any other weekend.
I’ve been volunteering at the Absolut Fringe Festival over the last couple of weeks and was due to work a shift on Friday (after my actual job).
The theatre space was a bit of a distance from where I live, so I wasn’t overly enthusiastic about the whole thing.
And then last minute, my shift was changed to a performance space a short walk from my apartment.
With two hilarious shows on.
That I got to watch while working.
“Good grief, that was a spot of good luck, old chap,” I said to no one in particular, as I left the theatre at 10pm
The cold I’d felt coming on since that morning had disappeared and I was feeling very good about life.
Upon hearing that a friend who had popped home from Germany for a few days was partaking in act of alcohol consumption at a nearby tavern with some other friends of mine, I made a crazy decision not to call it a night and to join them, despite my less-than-pretty Volunteering outfit.
Really good decision.
Really good night.
Which ended up in Charlies and as I’ve told you all before, boys and girls, every good night ends with chicken balls and curry sauce in Charlies.
Although technically it didn’t end there at 3.30am, for there was another group of friends just around the corner who occupied me for another hour, bless their hearts.
Saturday morning, I was up bright and early to witness one of the greatest rugby games I’ve seen in years, which resulted in an Irish win over an Australian side.
“This is unreal,” I told EVERYONE I’ve ever know. “If Dublin wins the All-Ireland Final tomorrow, this will be the greatest weekend of my life.”
Saturday afternoon was spent chatting and drinking tea with The Bessie and that night was a rather a cosy affair, the details of which will not be shared in this space.
And so I found myself sitting in front of a tiny screen the following afternoon, watching the Dublin v Kerry GAA match online.
I felt sick, my stomach was cramping up with the stress of the occasion, my nails were bitten into non-existence and I was cursing like a sailor and gasping like a fish out of water (or something to that effect).
It was close.
I didn’t think I could deal with a loss to Kerry after seeing how well we were playing.
And when the ball sailed through the posts during the last minute, giving us that narrow lead, it was just too much to cope with.
I was in floods of tears.
We actually won.
It was unbelievable.
16 years and The Sam was back in Dublin.
Words just won’t do the feeling justice.
That night I curled up on the couch in my pjs with the Work Girls as we introduced The Roomie to the Gilmore Girls.
Sure, I could’ve gone out to the pub to celebrate with the rest of my fellow Dubs, but I was so genuinely happy, it seemed like a waste to blur it all into a haze by drinking.
I woke up in a ridiculously cheery mood this morning and despite the fact that the streets were packed with annoying student tourists who stroll along in loud giant groups that you can’t get by, I failed to succumb to the bad mood that would usually have taken me down.
I was still smiling as I walked into work.
It’s going to be a good week.
Me: *flicking through our four TV stations* God, I hate I’m A Celebrity! Can’t believe it started AGAIN this year!
The Boy: Yeah I know.
Me: And the annoying thing is that I’ll probably end up having to watch it just like last year, because it’s on at the time I’m home and it replaces the decent shows.
The Boy: It’s just so pointless. They’re all nobodies trying to boost their careers.
Me: Yeah! *attempts an Australian accent* G’day mate! I’m in Austraaaaalia. *realises it sounded Indian* I’m not really very good at doing accents, am I?
The Boy: It’s not one of your strongest points, baby.