An Oddity

Ladles and jellyspoons, tá scéal a rá agam anocht. It's strange, and not for those with weak hearts that might seize after hearing this story. Today was a Monday, just like last Monday was also a Monday. I'll led to believe that all Mondays from now on, will be Mondays, due to the successful Peace Process following Sinn Féin's agreement to support the PSNI. So, today was Monday. The first day of a long week of tortourous school going and all the tasks that are associated with it. For example, getting up and actually bothering our arses to go to school. But that's all negative, which isn't to be the outlook of this post. Oh, no no no. Ooh-la-la, a Frenchie might say. For, today (a Monday, with thanks to Sinn Féin) I was in good humour for le plupart du temps in school. This is drop-jaw* sort of stuff my fine friends. Now is the time to restart your pace makers.

*I think a pulled a Kavanagh there, with the makey-uppy adjective. Maybe I'm just a little obsessed.

This morning I did get up, with difficulty, at exactly eight. Well, according to my clock anyway. I had me brekkie, obviously Coco Pops agus away liom. I walked down in the agreeable morning weather. 'Twas lovely, and stayed thus most of the day. Bhuail mé le Dáithí (spelling?) ag an ndroichead. If I left out the "le" there, Ms. Conway would surely laugh or something like that. Anyway, first class was Religion with, the one, the only, Holy Healy. She gave us photocopies out of her "How to Survive Marrying a Catholic" or something to that effect. It has funny pictures with silly captions. She thought that I could get the tone right for them, maybe because she thinks I have "dry wit!" I read them, or rather I laughed them. I don't know why, but I just thought they were funny. They weren't but they were in the particular moment. Y'kno the way. Everyone must have thought I had taken a turn down Loopy Lane in my old age. Especially Lee-Anne (Oh fuck, I can't remember if that's the right spelling of her name or not!!) as she mentioned it later.

The rest of the day was good. I wasn't pissed off or cranky as I usually can be. Usually I don't really want to say much during the day and this doesn't really help un-dig me out of an unfavourable mood. But, none of that mattered today! Hoo-rah. History was bleedin' funny too. A single word, "Piskov," sent us all, Ms. Atkins inc., into a short fit of the giggles. The list of attempted plots to kill Rasputin got me laughing out loud too. "The nobles didn't like Rasputin and his hockus-pockus and decided to kill him. But he used his magical powers to revive himself. They stabbed him, poisoned him, shot him, gassed him, used Mr. Power's ultra-radiation gun on him, gorged out his lungs with a spoon and then finally pulled off the deed by simply throwing the stupid bastard into a cold river." That's my slightly edited version, just to be clear. Again, we all had a good laugh (again, Atkins inc.). Brill.

Lunch was nice. Up to Bernie in Centra. Got a coffee and a Cadbury's Dairy Milk. Nothing too exciting. Back to lunch room and a chat with the locals. After lunch was boring, but hey, it's school. Nothing funny to report.

But once school ends, it's all to play for. We were down changing books from locker, and Erica pops her head in the door and shouts "Bitch!" to Lee-Anne (again, with the spelling?!). Funny, but I don't hear what else see says. But I hear what sounds like "I'll use my defibulator." But apparently that wasn't said. Oh well. It'd be cool if Erica had a defibulator. "Hey Erica, can I come over later and look at your defibulator?" Or maybe even: "Yo Eri-ceh, giz a go o' yer defib-u-yolker!" Moving on. Off we go down the corridors to extra EO'B maths. Little Dermo (IRA agent in Juno) appears behind us. We laugh and I raise my hands in the air, as I knew he had a pistol about twice the size of his head. Lee-Anne(?) asks what I'm doing. I tell her that the IRA had found out that I'd informed on them. At this stage I'm only on the brink of laughter. She says something like "Right...I'm worried about you." To which I reply that she should be because they were going to have me shot for informing. I don't think this sentence was finished before I started my fit of laughing. Then that defibulator came to mind, and I really couldn't stop. I was rightly in stitches!! Yes, that merited two factorials, ehh, I mean exclamation marks. (level 5 maybe) It all happened in about half a minute but it was the funniest moment for me in school for a good long time. Well, actually, the yearbook meeting on Friday was good too, with my "The Realm" game. That also involved me laughing my balls off.

So, that was my story of a nice school day. A true rarity. That rare descent or whatever Sylvia says of her bloody Rook. Of course, I've pondered, why was today such a cheerful day? Of all the days, surely Monday shouldn't be a good day. But, it was. Why? Only one logical reason comes to mind. What was I doing on Saturday/Sunday...? I was with me own, me darlin' (Juno) Lorna. And because she's so bleedin' deadly, my mirthful and cheery side is charged up and can actually be seen. In really long, completely ridiculous maths (big sums) questions, I do often drift off, and of her I think. Better than bleedin' integration! Integration by parts is ok, but only because you have to differentiate stuff too. Like, get dee b'dee x of x is a zed, in relation to y, flip it and get dee b'dee deeta over dee b'dee tee. That's equal to zero, coz it's a max. But anyway (or "moreover" as the culchies would say) she's the reason I guess.

Sin é. Tá tuirse orm anois. Bhuel, tá sé déanach. Ceathrú chun a haon. Táim chomh tuirseach leis an ...fear ....ehh...tuirseach. That's it really, can't be more simple. That was my day. I hope you enjoyed reading about it. It's very good. I hope you have a nice funny day every now and again too. We need them to keep us alive. I'd like to thanks Sinn Féin again for giving us back our Mondays. Respect. Slán libh.