DIARY OF A DEMENTED HOME WORKER: Those boogie nights are back again

It’s week 79 and I personally feel the government is a bit out of step with the nation, or even just me, by legalising dancing at weddings again. They should be more concerned with sorting out a September bank holiday for us all

• WOO hoo! Dancing at weddings is legal again after the further easing of restrictions this week. I don’t know, I was kind of hoping that the boogie ban could have been a Covid legacy to hold on to, a rare positive amid all the suffering we’ve endured. I’m one of those people who can’t quite fathom the joy people get from dancing. To shift a few calories and get a sweat on, maybe; but for fun? No, not getting it. I’ll manage a few moves in my kitchen at a push (I will admit to finding Neil Diamond’s Forever in Blue Jeans hard to resist) but I’ve always been reluctant to ‘hit the floor’ at social gatherings, especially weddings. Rock the Boat threatens to tip me over, and I especially hate it when you’re dragged out for a harmless waltz and then your partner, without warning, goes free style, leaving you to fend for yourself. Why would you do that to someone? It doesn’t matter if it’s the Siege of Ennis, the Conga or Whigfield’s Saturday Night, I’ll volunteer to mind the seats! I’ve only lovely memories of my own wedding day except for two particular dance floor related incidents. There was the 11.36 minutes when I somehow ended up trapped in the middle of a huge circle of people, all clapping and cheering me on as I shuffled through Tina Turner’s Simply the Best. The long version. I still haven’t quite forgiven my bridesmaids for not rescuing me from that ring of hell. There was also a slight mix-up where I thought I had asked the band to play Matt Monro’s This is the Life (for the life of me I can’t remember why) and through a gigantic break down in communication on my part they performed this tortured, shouty, truly terrible punk song without a single beat, after inviting guests to the dance floor for ‘something special requested by the bride.’ Yeah, that was a bit awkward for everyone. I think we brought on the cocktail sausages and sandwiches right away to boost morale.

• Right, there was one, maybe two mornings over the entire summer that my household snoozed on past 8pm. But since we’ve started school, it’s been the reverse. I’d say there’s only been two days when I haven’t had to rouse people from their blissful slumber, cutting it right down to the wire. The Germans probably have a word for it but I’ll just go with Murphy’s Law.  And we were only three days into our new ‘up and at ‘em’ regime when the five-year-old announced she was really looking forward to the holidays. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that it was just a two-day weekend before it all started again (she can thank  Henry Ford for that regime. Cheers!). In general though, we’re settling into September relatively well, although, it’s a delicate balance, handling the emotions of the junior infant. One too many well-meaning questions from me can result in some pretty unpleasant behaviour – to be fair I’m mainly just trying to suss out what everyone else has in their lunch boxes but I’m not getting much to go on. It got a bit ugly too when I didn’t know the words of a song they’d learned that morning in class, and when her pony tail was a tad too high, or too low, that sort of thing. But yeah, it’s mainly going pretty smoothly. When’s mid-term again?

• I’m fully behind MEP Bily Kelleher’s call for an additional bank holiday at the end of September to extend the summer period. I hadn’t realised how Ireland already has one of the lowest levels of Bank Holidays in the EU with just nine compared to 13 in Austria. Whose watch did that happen on? The MEP said: ‘While a late September holiday might not be a long-term necessity, I do think it’s needed after the 18 months we have all endured.’ Well said. So how is everyone fixed for Monday week? Shall we get that one in the diary so?

• I read somewhere that bookings are already filling up for Santa and there have been confirmed sightings of selection boxes in shops. In fairness! I barely acknowledge Hallowe’en, but we’re still a  month and a bit off from that occasion. We’re always being told to live in the moment, but who could blame us to struggle with that notion when we’re always being reminded of something else coming on down the tracks. I love Christmas as much as anyone but give me a break, I haven’t even got all the sand out of the car yet. Cool. The. Jets.

• With all talk now centred on going  back to the office (what are we going to talk about when we’re actually back in the office?), I had a quick look on line for a few new ‘rigouts.’ Exactly who was it that decided everything should be cropped this season? Life is hard enough. Anyway after more time spent scrolling that I’m prepared to admit I finally found two items that I liked. One was what looked like a regular, but still very nice Aran jumper, which turned out to be €600 (even I’m not worth that), and also what looked like ‘the perfect’ black dress, until it revealed itself as backless. Why over complicate things? There is simply not enough space in my brain at the moment to take on the challenges of a strapless bra. Looks like ’ll have to figure out a way of pimping my athleisure wear (yes, the leggings).

• Who else is stocking up on antigen tests when they pop out for bread and milk?  Apparently they’re like gold dust. I  know they’re not definitive but they can give some comfort when hit with that awful quandary most of us have faced by now: ‘Can I go to work/school tomorrow or can’t I?’ With schools back I know lots of people who have already been under house arrest while they awaited test results and I’m sure it will happen us all at some stage. It’s a little unsettling and a lot inconvenient, but I reckon we’ll have to roll with it. Even if, as Oasis sang,  ‘it’s all too much for me to take.’ (no I’m good for a dance thanks!)