Days go by
Obviously everyone knows that time speeds up as you get older. A year when you’re 25 goes by much quicker that when you’re a child because your only point of reference is one birthday or christmas to the next. Similarly at 45 and at 65 the days and weeks speed by much faster. So it’s important to make the most of the time we have. Get out and do things and see people, even if it is just argue with them and call them filthy names.
So it struck me as rather surprising when I realised I hadn’t been outside the house, bar the nearby shops for milk, bread and delicious cool filtered Major cigarettes, since Monday.
I find I’m working all day on my great novel (which is an entirely different novel than the one that’s going to be published) and generally getting caught up in work and things. I’ll pad into the kitchen in my bare feet (it’s summer) and make some food. And as much as I love food, and I do love food, what I’m making at the moment is entirely functional. Beans on toast, Heinz tomato soup, a steak pie from Marks and Spencer, a pizza or a toasted cheese sandwich.
There’s no ‘cooking’ as such. No sweating over a sauce (I find using my own sweat in my bolognese sauce makes all the difference but don’t tell anyone), no stirring, reducing, seasoning, simmering or anything else.
My beard remains untrimmed, the pints that have my name on it on Ron’s have been replaced by a fridge full of bottled beer I got from the off licence (at a very nice price, pubs beware. Why would you spend €5 on a bottle of beer in a bar when you can get it for €1 in the offy? Eventually people will cop on), me talking to Bastardface and, ocassionally the lunatic cat, has taken the place of the witty and hilarious banter with the lads. Only for the fact I had a two minute conversation with the posty the other morning and I wouldn’t have had any human contact all week. And it’s Thursday already! Last time I looked at my watch it was Monday morning.
I need to get out more.
June 14th, 2007 at 10:10 am
do you bottle the sweat and let it age Twenty or do you drizzle it straight into the saucepan from the source…just askin’
June 14th, 2007 at 10:27 am
I recommend Limerick
June 14th, 2007 at 10:42 am
The warning sign for overstepping houseboundednessness is when you start keeping your poo in jars to keep in case of emergencies.
June 14th, 2007 at 10:46 am
My contacts in the publishing trade tell me that your magnum opus is sci fi – that the aliens return and maroon some more Mary Harneys – true or false?
June 14th, 2007 at 10:56 am
Not to worry Twenty.
Randolph Hearst, Howard Hughes, Benny Hill and various other ultra-successful media mogul geniuses ended up as shut-in recluses too. This is just another symptom of the book offer. That’s how Maeve Binchy got so damn big, stuck inside all day.
It’ll wear off when the publisher laughs scornfully at the first draft and throws it back in your face. Then you’ll have to come out of your shell, if only to burn his house down.
June 14th, 2007 at 10:57 am
I know the feeling. I went out last Friday night and came home Sunday afternoon. Missed two nights sleep completely which is a good effort as I’m not the young lad I once was. And now it’s Thursday. It’s like being stuck in a washing machine, this life.
Although I will say, time does go a little bit slower if you’re not at work doing a 9-5 thing and at home writing a book for yourself. At least, there’s something visible for yourself.
June 14th, 2007 at 11:01 am
Got to be fresh sweat created by holding your face over the bubbling sauce, Sap. It seasons it for you.
You recommend Limerick for what?
Maggot – false.
Lung – can’t I have one of my minions do the burning?
Gomaith – it’s better than going out and coming back three weeks before you went out in some bizarre time portal incident. I hate when that happens.
June 14th, 2007 at 11:29 am
It is not always safe going out, I went out once and got very drunk and could not find my way home. I woke up the next morning in a strangers bed , There was a pair of womens underware lying on the floor, there were big enough to cover Louth. Next thing I know is that the world went black as the owner just walked in front of the Sun. To say she was big would be like saying Mary Harney is a waif.
It still sends shivers down my spine.
June 14th, 2007 at 11:49 am
Look it, if we all stopped talking to him he’d have to leave the house – we’re only making it worse for him. He’s probably agoraphobic already!
You’re living in your very own virtual world Twenty and there was you slagging off the virtual Guinness only the other day. Get out before it’s too late!
June 14th, 2007 at 12:02 pm
i’d recommend limerick for a good bombing. would clear the place up a good bit.
don’t want to think what sort of an emergency could be solved by having some old tuds in a jam jar.
never understood buying bottled beer in pubs. get a lot more in a pint for the same money.
and considering the quality of humans outside, staying inside is often the best thing.
June 14th, 2007 at 12:03 pm
turds, not tuds. doh.
June 14th, 2007 at 12:09 pm
When we cut do we not bleed?
June 14th, 2007 at 12:12 pm
I need to get out more.
I recommend Limerick
June 14th, 2007 at 12:13 pm
‘Cabin Fever’ is what comes next. At least you are doing something in a constructive manner rather than watching shite daytime telly…well at least I hope you are not.
June 14th, 2007 at 12:14 pm
I would Eolai but I’m afraid of being stabbed. You know how it is.
June 14th, 2007 at 12:42 pm
You’re a shut in! Becareful though before you know it you shall be spending all your time “talking” to people online and getting involved in 911 conspiracy theories….
the truth, and real people, are out there….
June 14th, 2007 at 12:51 pm
I find I’m working all day on my great novel (which is an entirely different novel than the one that’s going to be published)…
Oh Jesus, Twenty. It’s all so horribly apt.
June 14th, 2007 at 1:14 pm
You should invest in some nice lace curtain nets for the windows, you can hole up for months while looking at the outside world going by without anyone even knowing. Invest also in a crate of longlife milk. (A wise investment that one) A deck of cards for companionship and Bob’s yer uncle!
June 14th, 2007 at 2:13 pm
a good range of petfood, a trip to the off license and you need never go out for months. Big bags of dry dogfood and catfood are economical and far healthier than human food – when was the last time you heard of dozens of dogs turning ther toes up because of e coli ? Lots of old people’s homes swear by it.
June 14th, 2007 at 2:34 pm
So Twenty, you’re human after all. And I thought you were a hard callous bastard. I bet you wish your age was twenty and not your name.
June 14th, 2007 at 3:18 pm
Welcome to the club Twenty
1 yr on, I’ve discovered whenever I score a great interview I’m always wearing my lucky pj’s!
June 14th, 2007 at 3:50 pm
[...] antisocial, just working… Jump to Comments Twenty’s been posting about the weird life of the work-at-home writer. Substitute Marlboro for Major, wine for beer, pasta for M&S steak pies and, well, no beard for [...]
June 14th, 2007 at 4:07 pm
Don’t worry, Twenty. Time is relative.
When you get to my age, it passes so quickly that you pass through your own little black hole, and time starts to go backwards.
I’m already a week younger than I was this time next week.
I think I ought to go out more too. ?
June 14th, 2007 at 4:12 pm
As a stay-at-home mother I know just how dangerous the home can be, especially for time-portal accidents. Beware the fridge, mousehole # 2 in the hall, and wear loose fitting tunics and a great black cloak that will look appropriate in any historical or future setting. And clutch bottled water to you whenever you go past a danger-spot – the the 22nd century’s a bugger for giardia and you can’t trust the water in Galway either I read.
You should be fine if you just don’t move from your desk. Gin helps greatly.
June 14th, 2007 at 4:40 pm
Stop boasting, ya bastard.
June 14th, 2007 at 5:38 pm
Welcome to my world you great big Nancy.
June 14th, 2007 at 6:23 pm
Is she of the delightful ankles hermitized with you??
June 14th, 2007 at 7:36 pm
I hear you twenty, before you know it you’ll be forty major
June 14th, 2007 at 9:27 pm
Forty major problems.. starting with belching up onions
June 14th, 2007 at 9:31 pm
Twenty-
the cunt who said that the maximum amount of wanks a male can have in a day is 14
is a dirty fucken liar.
June 14th, 2007 at 10:49 pm
Thanks for sharing, henry.
June 14th, 2007 at 11:42 pm
Just got a big bit of the plastic top of cigarette packet in the ashtray stuck to the end of my fag and smoked it. pah
June 15th, 2007 at 12:40 am
There’s a 24 bottles for a tenner deal on here. Normal beer too, not Lidl “Two Germans fermented this under their bunk beds” stuff. It’s great, works out way cheaper than milk. The kids were crying for the first few days, now they can’t wait to get up each morning for their Beerios.
June 15th, 2007 at 1:09 am
kav, you just made me spit things with laughter, …cunt
June 15th, 2007 at 1:28 am
G’day Twenty,
Have you been feeling a cold breath on the back of your neck lately?
I reckon Bock’s itching for a stabbin’… either giving or taking.
Henry, 14 wanks in a day. When you’re giving them you can easily beat that number.
June 15th, 2007 at 1:37 am
Ouch.
I’ve just read the comments on Bock… sorry about that chief, you’re way ahead of me.
Carry on.
June 15th, 2007 at 2:35 am
Oh, shit Twenty, Barry Egan walked past me yesterday and I didn’t puck the fucker…
June 15th, 2007 at 7:25 am
Never mind going out why don’t you start up a blog or something?
June 15th, 2007 at 8:55 am
Ink – you too can feel my shame.
Knudsen – that’s a capital idea, old chap.