Lads.
The craic last night.
I can't.
My head is absolutely wrecked. I'm on my third cup of tea and the room is still spinning a bit. Mam rang this morning and said "Seamus, you were on the telly" which — yes, Mam, I was aware — but hearing it said in her voice made it real in a new way.
Here's what I can process through the fog:
The site got 500,000 visits in one day. FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND. That's... I don't even know what that is. More than I got in the entire first year I ran the thing.
My phone hasn't stopped buzzing. Emails, messages, comments. I can't keep up. Every time I answer one, three more appear.
RTÉ want me on the Late Late Show. THE LATE LATE SHOW. That's the biggest chat show in Ireland! I didn't even know how to respond when they called so I just said "uh... okay?" which is not very professional but also I'd just sung in front of thousands of people so my brain was still a bit scrambled.
I'm also fairly sure I drunk-texted someone important but I can't remember who.
Rattlin' the cat has been very patient with my incoherence. She's currently asleep on my keyboard.
I need to sleep. And then I need to process what's happening.
This is mental.
Absolutely mental.
—Seamus