Yesterday, I was in quite a bad mood.
I'm sure my sisters will wave their hands in the air, praise the Lord Baby Jesus and testify to the truth of the above statement, seeing as how they had the absolute joy, joy, joy of sharing a car journey home with me while I chain smoked out the back window and demanded that they play the same song over and over again.
The song, you'll be vastly interested to know, is about not painting the sun. "Don't paint the sun anymore", the singer pleads with an unnamed lady. It seems like a reasonable request. Perhaps their house is already covered in paintings of the sun, and he can't bear to look at another one. But the singer has more to say on the matter. "Paint the moon", he continues, and straight away comes up with another demand - "and the stars in an autumn sky." This man means business. His ladyfriend has obviously been painting all the wrong things, obviously majorly based around solar portraits, and this gentleman - this bossy, demanding gentleman - is trying to put her straight. He goes further - "Paint the cool blue waters shades of grey." Up until now I've been with him on all of his painting suggestions - they certainly sounded more interesting than the boring old sun, all yellows and oranges and ovals. But this? I don't like grey, or black and white. I like some colours. Especially cool blue waters. "Just don't let me live my life this way, without you" he finishes, and I see now that this has all been one great big metaphor. She's not a painter at all. He's just got a weird way of saying that she's a bit miffed with him and he's put her in a terror of a mood.
I can't remember how the rest goes, except that we all get the "you" bit of the "without you" refrain wrong, and come in at different times. It's brilliant, because then it sounds like a love song to a train sung by a child, as we all splutter "withou...chu chu..."
ANYWAY. As I was saying, stinker of a mood yesterday. I thought it was through sleep deprivation, because I was sharing a room with Bobby on Wednesday night and he wouldn’t shut up or settle down. But this morning the stinky mood continued, and I got to thinking maybe the wind had changed last night and I was stuck like that forever. I stomped around town in the continuation of my bad mood and was heading in to work muttering and mumbling and wishing everyone dead, and then I stepped out in front of a quite quickly moving car and nearly got run over.
The lady driver of the car quite understandably screeched to a halt, blasted her horn at me, and then pulled alongside (once I’d stepped back up on to the pavement), wound down her window and told me in no uncertain and some profane terms that I had nearly ended up under the wheels of her car. I said I was sorry, she shook her head, wound up her window, and carried on. The rest of Dublin kept pushing past paying no attention, and after a moment I gathered myself and started back towards work.
In, I suddenly realised, a terrifically good mood. Fabulously good. In fact, I was singing to myself, so happy was I.
It’s astonishing, the things it takes to cheer me up.
I'm sure my sisters will wave their hands in the air, praise the Lord Baby Jesus and testify to the truth of the above statement, seeing as how they had the absolute joy, joy, joy of sharing a car journey home with me while I chain smoked out the back window and demanded that they play the same song over and over again.
The song, you'll be vastly interested to know, is about not painting the sun. "Don't paint the sun anymore", the singer pleads with an unnamed lady. It seems like a reasonable request. Perhaps their house is already covered in paintings of the sun, and he can't bear to look at another one. But the singer has more to say on the matter. "Paint the moon", he continues, and straight away comes up with another demand - "and the stars in an autumn sky." This man means business. His ladyfriend has obviously been painting all the wrong things, obviously majorly based around solar portraits, and this gentleman - this bossy, demanding gentleman - is trying to put her straight. He goes further - "Paint the cool blue waters shades of grey." Up until now I've been with him on all of his painting suggestions - they certainly sounded more interesting than the boring old sun, all yellows and oranges and ovals. But this? I don't like grey, or black and white. I like some colours. Especially cool blue waters. "Just don't let me live my life this way, without you" he finishes, and I see now that this has all been one great big metaphor. She's not a painter at all. He's just got a weird way of saying that she's a bit miffed with him and he's put her in a terror of a mood.
I can't remember how the rest goes, except that we all get the "you" bit of the "without you" refrain wrong, and come in at different times. It's brilliant, because then it sounds like a love song to a train sung by a child, as we all splutter "withou...chu chu..."
ANYWAY. As I was saying, stinker of a mood yesterday. I thought it was through sleep deprivation, because I was sharing a room with Bobby on Wednesday night and he wouldn’t shut up or settle down. But this morning the stinky mood continued, and I got to thinking maybe the wind had changed last night and I was stuck like that forever. I stomped around town in the continuation of my bad mood and was heading in to work muttering and mumbling and wishing everyone dead, and then I stepped out in front of a quite quickly moving car and nearly got run over.
The lady driver of the car quite understandably screeched to a halt, blasted her horn at me, and then pulled alongside (once I’d stepped back up on to the pavement), wound down her window and told me in no uncertain and some profane terms that I had nearly ended up under the wheels of her car. I said I was sorry, she shook her head, wound up her window, and carried on. The rest of Dublin kept pushing past paying no attention, and after a moment I gathered myself and started back towards work.
In, I suddenly realised, a terrifically good mood. Fabulously good. In fact, I was singing to myself, so happy was I.
It’s astonishing, the things it takes to cheer me up.