Monday
Wake at 4 AM (local time), read for a bit, then fall back asleep until mid-morning. Buy groceries and work on summer schedules, catalog copy, and staff possibilities.
Around 10 PM I head down to An Droichead Beag (The Small Bridge), a large pub down the hill that features live music every night of the year. A couple of girls play some quiet trad and I take a seat at the end of the bar. This will become my standard seat every night I'm down there.
I start outlining the play I'm working on until an American girl asks me about what I'm writing. We chat for a while. She's touring around the country for a month, going here and there. Then I get talking to a group of Kilkenny girls who are also here on holiday. We stay up until 4 AM and I even get to play host for a bit in my rented apartment. One of them eats toast.
Tuesday
More sleep. Instead of adjusting to GMT, I pretty much stay on US Central Time, waking at noon and staying up until 3 or 4 AM all week. I continue to work on Limelight business, and get to a point where the administrative stuff is "caught up," for at least a while. I wander back down to the pub and listen to more music and jot down more ideas for the play. Could have joined the Kilkenny girls for some stir-fry, but I politely decline. Need to stay focused on the tasks at hand.
Wednesday
Today is the day where I let myself do Nothing. I sleep until 2 in the afternoon, take a long walk around the town, and watch a lot of Sky TV. I may have written a bit, but the day is mostly spent on standby mode.
Thursday
While sleep has been easy to come by here, it is often interrupted by a group of barking dogs which seem to be penned in directly under my window. They are awful.
I spend a lot of time writing, and a fair amount of time doing more of Nothing. Whenever I want a break there are always several channels of overplayed American sitcoms to watch. I am also limited in doing Nothing because for some reason all the ATMs, Internet connections, and most mobile phones are out of service all along west Kerry. They finally come back online around 9:30 at night.
With money now in my pocket, I wander back down the hill to the same pub and take my same seat. The landlord of the place I'm renting is playing with the trad band tonight. After he's finished for the night we chat over a pint, mostly about the state of the Irish economy. Lots of empty, newly-built homes around here.
I return "home" and watch the newest episode of Lost, recorded on the DVR of my Sky box. A wee country cottage this is not. I also read a remarkable play by Brian Friel called Translations.
Friday
I step outside to get some lunch at The Goat Street Cafe and the sky is filled with smoke. Farmers are burning the gorse up on the hillside and it's created quite the atmospheric conditions. I eat seafood chowder, write some silly lyrics for another silly song, and take a walk along the bay. I read a second Friel play: The Freedom of the City, and finally fall asleep around 4:30 in the morning.
The dogs only wake me up once.
Saturday
Some laundry, some last-minute food purchases. I've made practically every meal I've eaten at "home." Pasta one night, a steak another night. I drink a lot of tea, and learned how to make coffee using a French press.
Maybe I'll wander into a pub or two tonight, or maybe I'll just stay in and write some more.
I am perfectly okay with the idea that I can do whatever I want, whenever I feel like it.
Tomorrow I leave for Dublin, for friends, further thought, a bit of theatre, and more work to be done.
