Sleepwalking my way through life: "And a merry fake Christmas to all, and to all a good night."

"And a merry fake Christmas to all, and to all a good night."

Merry fake Christmas people.

I sit here, in the best t-shirt known to man (courtesy of my lovely Marie), sipping a glass of coke and contemplating the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Is it the mountain of homework that's piling up on me? The English unit test, my dissertation, and now drama jumping into the mix? No, this feeling isn't a homework feeling. It's too deep for that.

Troubles with the wife? Nope. Apart from a few hiccups throughout the day I had a fantastic time. We wished each other a merry fake Christmas, exchanged presents and waited out the rest of the night doing nothing in particular. She loved her book, Marian Keyes' Further Under The Duvet, her dvd, Pooh's Heffalump Movie and the little bear keyring I got her. The keyring was of a bear holding a heart out in it's hand with a gaping hole in his chest.

I thought it summed me up quite well.

I received the afore mentioned best shirt in all of mankind, and three volumes of Tsubasa, a manga that I've really been enjoying. She even got the right ones, so I'm really impressed.

No, I had a great day yesterday.

So it must be something today. I sat, I attempted my homework to no avail, and watched some Invader Zim. Halfway through an episode about Vampire Pigs my phone buzzes to life with a text. My Dad is wanting to call me, so I set up the internet, launch Skype, and before you know it I'm chatting away with my Dad.

"So you ready for coming out then?" He asks, crackling with interference.

"Yeah," I reply, "I just need to buy some more underwear and I think I'm raring to go."

"That's good then."

"Yeah." I say, taking a bite out of my penguin.

"Look Joe, I'm going to be doing a job for BP over the holiday period, and I'm going to be the project leader."

"That's good." I say, taking another bite.

"Yeah it is. The thing about it is that it means I'm not going to have as much time off as first thought."

"How much time do you have off then?" I replied, swallowing my chocolate penguin.

"One day a week."

The penguin had to fall further than normal, the pit had just been created.

"Sorry," he continued on, "it's just that if they ask me now and I say no then they won't ask me again."

There was a pause. The only thing that betrayed my emotion was a three second frame from the webcam.

"Ok." I said, smiling.

"Are you sure you're ok with it?"

"Yeah, it's fine. Extra work means extra money, which is always a good thing. And besides, I'll still have you on weekends."

I hoped I still had him on weekends.

"Yeah, and that one day."

Three weeks with my dad and I'll only see him for about ten days.

"It's ok then, I understand."

And I sit here, in the best t-shirt known to man, sipping a glass of coke, forcing the lump in my throat to retreat to the pit in my stomach.

And a merry fake Christmas to all, and to all a good night.
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At 3:37 am, Anonymous Laura said...

Oh, Joe.... I'm sorry.

You'll still have some time with your dad, though.. and you can email me whenever!

You'll have more time to sight-see and all that. I think. Or immerse yourself in their culture... maybe learn some whatever-it-is-they-speak-there... ?


Three freaking weeks. Ohmigoodness. How will I survive without you?

I'll go crazy, that's what I'll do.



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