I find the term ‘old friend’ interesting, because it can be open to interpretation – is my friend just an old person? Or is the friendship itself old? In this case anyway it is simply the friendship, unless you consider 23 an old person.
Anyway, in my roundabout way, I’m saying that I saw a friend I’ve known for a long time this past weekend. In cahoots with my partner, she surprised me by staying over the weekend. It had been six years since we last saw each other – the shock was real.
We had a great time, and I remembered that I actually enjoy spending time outside of my own house. We had good food, drinks with more friends, shopping on Grafton street, sitting in cafes. Needless to say, it was a lovely time.
But the highlight of the visit was our trip to the Little Museum of Dublin, an unassuming four roomed museum that made such an impact. The tour guide took us through time by having us touch the magical emerald couch (literally yes, that’s what happened). This woman was a mesh of Helena-Bonham-Carter and Phoebe Waller-Bridges, so I’m almost certain she must have a double-barrelled surname.
This weekend I’m gonna take it easy, the big surprise took my mind off my post-holiday blues, but I still need to feel my feelings. Perhaps its time to pick up my romance again, which is still sitting at 20k words after my month of ignoring it. Maybe I should watch a sappy romance film to get in the mood?
Until next time x