St. Patrick’s Day is not a real holiday anymore. I remember when I was Catholic, and it was about something…but not being Catholic makes it a holiday about being a drunk.

I must be some kind of lucky though. I did not have to work today. Of course, I missed work on Friday because I woke up at 7am and was violently sick and called the theatre the moment the managers walked in the door, only to be told to call our senior manager, who was asleep…

I’d feel more upset about missing a whole shift, except I worked almost 48 hours last week, and I know I’ll have at least 36 logged by the end of this week, too, which makes up for it…

Spent most of today in bed, shivering and being half-asleep, and attempting to neither move nor breathe when I was half awake because it made everything so much worse.

I feel kind of okay now. Fevery.

Spent my waking hours paying bills, seeing the pets, and working through a book of Celtic myths and legends. It wasn’t what I expected…the book’s split up with sections on stories from Ireland, the Isle of Man, Scotland, Wales, Cornwall, and Brittany, and somehow the Irish stories are the most boring and incomprehensable. Meh.
I liked the Manx and Scottish stories a lot, and I have a vague recollection of our elementary school librarian reading us a book of fairy tales that might’ve come from those stories, but it may have been somewhere else.

I suppose it was the best I could do to acknowledge that I do possess some Irish heritage after all, since not everyone is given over to drunkenness.

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