The epic cold snap of 2010 has laid me bare, I can no longer deny that I have become a lily-livered lightweight.
I used to to be hardy, this time three years ago I got out of bed at 6am and drove out to a building site in swords to start work at 7. It was freezing and dark as a big bucket of frozen pitch. But I’d get changed out in the elements and have an hours work done before the sun slouched over the horizon.
We worked the best part of a ten hour day most days and took two twenty minute breaks.
1 x mug of tea + 2 x sandwiches = 20 minutes, then you stand up and go back to work. And the work was hard physical labour, I was sweating buckets all day long, even in winter. I’d have to be hit by something like a Mercedes e-class or bigger to take a day off.
But now look at me, I get tired after I’ve been down to the shops and back, I need a little sit-down. It’s a five minute walk in each direction.
And I got a cold there during the big winter of 2010. Started with the sniffles and snowballed (heh!) into a mild headache and general feeling of not-too-greatness. And that’s all it took to keep me inside, whinging to the missus for lemsip and whiskey, sleeping half the day away to aid my recovery.
Meanwhile there’s a half-destroyed warehouse in Harolds Cross that I’m supposed to be renovating that is costing a geansaí-load of money every month in rent, and I’m not there working because my nose is a bit runny.
In a hilarious irony, I actually do fight at lightweight, because I’m only small.
Thats right, its “a hilarious” because as an Irishman I can follow an ‘a’ with a ‘h’ without breaking a sweat, and it doesn’t sound like I rammed two vowels together like the front and rear wheels of a crashed yaris, because there is a not-silent ‘h’ in the middle.
stick that in your pipe, bucko.
