Every June my subconscious does this fabulous fun thing – the annual Leaving Cert dream. If I’m really lucky it’ll be really specific – like Irish paper 1 – or an accountancy paper full of Question 1s – either way it morphs pretty smartly into a nightmare.
Thanks, Brain.
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I usually avoid writing when I’m on leave but y’know sometimes you see something and you get the rages, and as a colleague said to me yesterday as we raged to each other – sometimes right is just right. And so you respond.
There was a girl in my class in school that I was pretty tight with. She wasn’t my bestest-in-the-world friend but I liked her and spent a good deal of time in her house at weekends and such. Especially when I started smoking. I know, I know…
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