"O dear, CHRISTMAS IS COMING" - Paul O'Mahony is flustered #DecPodPoMo Day 17/31

This was recorded on the morning of Wednesday 18th December - while dog-walking.
You hear:

"Oh dear, Christmas is coming.

Oh dear, the fact that I have to leave Cork on Monday coming in order to go to Limerick means that effectively Christmas Day is on Monday.

Or did I say Monday?

I meant Sunday.

And today is Wednesday.

And that means an awful lot of things to be done.

I haven't got a list of them written down, but I have a pretty good idea in my head that there are a number of things including the Christmas presents to be bought between now and Sunday.

And I also haven't got my wife her Christmas present yet.

And that's another story.

I am trying to think who else's Christmas present have I not got.

Here, Louie.

Come on.

I'm out walking with the dog, but it means that my emotional state between now and Sunday will be a bit fraught.

I anticipate that.

Which means I need to keep focus on what's coming up.

And I need to make a list.

I'll never cope without a list.

I can't rely upon my memory to make sure that I won't overlook something.

I need to get some fresh air, because if I don't get fresh air I'm going to be depleted in, I would say even brain power, intelligence, emotional resources.

Fresh air is good for me and I know that.

I just need to be careful that I don't forget that, overlook it, or decide that that's an optional extra.

So definitely I need to look after myself.

I need to be careful of myself.

I need to drop anything that can be dropped.

In other words, postponed until January.

So I'm thinking, what can I drop?

What can I get rid of?

What can I postpone?

Because the one thing you can't postpone is Christmas Day.

And I can't postpone flying to London on Monday.

And I can't postpone driving to Limerick on Sunday.

I'm getting up at a horrible time on Monday morning.

Horrible time.

Plane takes off at half five.

Can you imagine how awful that is?

To get a plane leaving at half...

Oh God.

It's going to mean I'm in Stansted Airport at a ridiculously early hour.

Almost too early to go on travel and go on from there and go to my son's house for coffee.

There we are.

Oh dear.

Well, I suppose everybody gets into this kind of a flurry.

And I'm not alone.

I'm part of a team.

It's like me giving myself a team talk.

I'm part of a team.

I can't do it all by myself.

And I can't let anybody else do it all by themselves.

So here we go.

At least I did sort out the Christmas present for my daughter yesterday.

And I only got it sorted out when I stopped thinking that it has to be a surprise.

It doesn't have to be a surprise.

And I came to that realization when I thought, "Well, what was I doing at her age?"

And I realized that I was telling my parents what I would like for Christmas.

It wasn't a surprise.

In fact, I think I started telling my parents what I'd like for Christmas when I was about 15.

Yeah, so Silly Paul got himself into, "Oh, what about this and what about that?"

And she looked the obvious answer was, "Just ask the girl what she'd like."

And she told me, "So everything's sorted in that front?"

So things are not as bad as they could be.

No, they're not.

However, what's missing out of my emotional armory, if you like, is a sensation of, "Everything is going terribly well.

This is going to be the best Christmas ever.

This is certainly going to be the most enjoyable time of this year.

And it's going to be a splendid introduction to next year.

Everything is going to be perfect.

Whatever will be, will be."

And, you know, there are an awful lot of people who don't have all the advantages that I have.

So I'm really fortunate and I need to remember, or I am remembering, that I'm a man full of gratitude.

You know, they say, "Fake it till you make it."

I'm a man full of gratitude for all the gifts that I've received, right from the time I was born, up to today.

And you know what?

Whatever I get for Christmas will be a perfect present.

So there we are.

That's it.

Yeah.

I'm fine.

I'm in good state.

All's well in my little world.

And hopefully everything will be a little bit better in everybody else's world.

Polomani, St.

Cheerio, I now can put the dog in the car."
(Transcription by Whisper - to be edited)