Pessimism, it’s part of the Irish psyche

THERE is something inherently Irish about always expecting the worst. And it was never so clear and apparent as in my bathroom.

Looking around recently, I spotted upturned bottles of shampoo, tubes of toothpaste rolled to within millimetres of the cap, razors so blunt you could safely run them across your eyeballs, rags of materials you could barely call cloths... The list is endless. And it doesn’t stop there.

In my fridge are upturned bottles of ketchup, and jars of things I’ll never use. On my desk are pens that don’t work and scraps of paper with barely a square inch of writing space left. Around the house are containers with no lids, lids with no containers, keys to long-gone locks, and buttons to clothes I no longer own.

And I’m willing to bet you all have something similar too. Like that thing in the back of the drawer. You know, the plastic thing that used to be a bit of something, but you can’t remember what, but you can’t throw it out in case you find the thing and realise the bit is vital and you can never use the thing again... Yeah, that.

So why do we all have this junk lying around our homes, and why can’t we get rid of it? It’s because we might be able to get one last scrap of toothpaste out of that tube, that pen might squeeze out just enough ink to fill that tiny space on that page, those jars in the fridge haven’t passed their expiry date, and there might be enough shampoo left in that bottle for one more wash. And we might find that thing.

I know there’s a re... a re... oh, I can’t even bring myself to say it. You know, that “r” word that means we have no jobs and no money. I know there’s one of those on at the moment, but does that really mean we can’t stretch our budgets to buy a new bar of soap instead of squashing all those little old ones together?

No, it doesn’t. Because that’s not the reason. It’s because we’re Irish. It’s because somewhere deep down in our psyche, we know we’ve gone through famines, those “r” things, civil wars, bombings, oppression, and Jedward. We’ve been through hard times, and our survival instincts kick in. We expect the worst, because that’s all we’ve ever known.

Our instinct is to preserve everything we’ve got, because we might not have it for too long. (Tip: don’t tell the banks where it is.) So that’s why we wear those socks even after the holes started appearing, that’s why we turn all those bottles and jars upside down, that’s why we’re so bloody manic about not leaving the immersion on.

(Admit it, we all grew up in an eternally-panicked environment where the immersion simply could not be left on for more than twenty minutes. A split second longer than that and it would blow up right in your face.)

The one I succumb to most regularly is refusing to throw out a loaf of bread, even though there’s only one slice left in it and I’ve already opened a new pack. Someday, I tell myself, I will make a sandwich with that slice and a slice from the fresh pack.

But that day never comes and it’s only when the bread is finally inedible that I have my excuse to throw it out.

Similarly, even though I’ve opened a new bottle of shampoo and a new tube of toothpaste, the old ones remain, just in case, decades from now, enough drops have accumulated to make one final go of it. And, even though I’ve bought a new hoover, the old one still stands in the corner, because it might spring back to life any day now, and cough and splutter its way around the house one last time.

You see, you never know when the next economic crisis could strike, and empty jam jars become the new currency. And tomorrow could bring another famine.

Then you’ll be glad you kept those potatoes at the back of the press even though they were all soft and squishy and had roots as long as your leg.

Or the bogs could run out of turf next week and you’ll be straight to the spare room to grab that electric heater you bought in the sale 15 years ago and have never used since.

But you knew this day would come. And you can stand there, triumphant, heater in hand. Vindicated.

Now, to turn it on, all you need is the knob. You know, that plastic thing that