Sunday Thoughts

I should really have called this blog post Easter Sunday Thoughts. Happy Easter to those of you who celebrate. Today is also the last day of March, and the clocks went forward too. I have to brave standing on the table to change the kitchen clock, all in good time.

March was a strange month, it flew and dragged in equal measure. The weather didn’t know what it was at, we went from sunshine to hail showers in a matter of minutes, and it’s been very cold. There was snow in parts of Northern Ireland last week too.

I actually met a friend for coffee last week, which was lovely, and much needed. I got my nails done too, and I love them. It’s great to have a nail salon in my village. I also got to explore a bit, and I’ll tell you more about that in another blog post. I also bought the cutest lemon meringue pie in Le Fournil, Sligo, I can’t bring myself to eat it though!

My old friend anxiety came back to bite me yesterday. It’s weird because I honestly thought I was OK, but I went to the local market and I was later than I would usually be, and the car park was wedged, so I just about got parked. The place was packed, it was an Easter event and there were so many people that I just got overwhelmed and I had to leave. I didn’t even get to buy the things I went for. It’s been a while since I’ve felt so anxious. I describe it as a sort of jangly feeling, like I had tiny spiders all over my back. I was grand when I got back to the car, and even better when I got home, and Andy made me a cup of tea.

I think it might be because I haven’t been out that much recently, and also, I know I’m not great with crowds. My usual trick is to go to places early and leave before they get busy, I’ll have to go back to doing that again. It’s proved to me that I might think I’m OK, but the anxiety is always around, at least now I know how to deal with me, and I left before it turned into a panic attack.

My dad’s funeral was 15 years ago today. The priest forgot his name, and a candle set the flowers on fire. My dad would have found it hilarious. He hated mass, and my mum would always drag him along. He used to have a stick with him (I’ve no idea why), and the organ player was an elderly lady who used to fall asleep during mass, dad would prod her during the sermon, and she sit bolt upright and start playing a hymn! It’s a wonder he didn’t get banned from the church.

Wishing you all a good week ahead, and thanks as always for reading.