THE sheer madness of life as an Irish politician was laid bare in the past week.
Elected representatives take on the job knowing full well the trials and tribulations ahead.
Almost all of them come from a background where they?ve already experienced what being at the beck and call of the public is all about.
Even those who weren?t previously elected to office of any kind usually have a grounding in community work or some worthy cause that leaves little free time.
But the relative newcomers to Leinster House got a rude awakening, literally, when it came to burying the corpse of Anglo Irish Bank.
It has been a long time since the lights of the Houses of the Oireachtas stayed on through the night for an emergency sitting.
Worryingly, the last occasion that dawn broke on the nocturnal activities of Government was when Biffo and his sidekicks put pen to paper on the bank guarantee.
The obvious comparison that rushed law is dangerous was pointed out by Shane Ross and others.
It is hard to fathom that a carefully planned operation, Project Red, was hatched in advance to take out the zombie bank masquerading as IBRC.
When it swung into action, what we got was 24 hours of high drama that at times descended into confusion and farce.
The true awfulness of the McAleese Report was consigned to the one-day wonder category as the plight of the unfortunate laundry slaves was shelved.
Attention turned to the big news that our European money masters were about to make life easier for us all.
Of course, it didn?t turn out to be so simple, and the so-called Prom Night kicked off in a chaotic manner.
The Opposition was furious that they didn?t have time to see the legislation to wind up IRBC, which was drawn up months back.
With President Michael D Higgins on his way home from Rome in the Government jet, the stop-start debate didn?t begin until midnight.
Fianna Fail, still suffering a hangover from the party?s dismal effort to head off the crash, was understandably less outspoken than the outraged ranks around them.
Micheal Martin & Co, despite their reservations, ended up supporting the liquidation, so the main charge against the Coalition was left to Sinn Fein and the Technical Group.
It was inevitable that all hell would break loose in the early hours and the fault for that can be placed at the door of the Government backbenchers.
The Taoiseach, Tanaiste and Finance Minister were all allowed make their case without interruption, and the heckling that sparked a screaming match came from the Fine Gael and Labour TDs.
As tempers frayed, Gerry Adams pleaded for the Dail bar to be shut, ironically on the same night that RTE began a TV series where comic Des Bishop casts a caustic eye on the Irish fondness of booze.
The dog-pit of the Dail Chamber reverberated to the unseemly spectacle of grown men slagging each other like corner boys at a town fair until 3am. The Bill then moved across to the bleary-eyed Senators for final approval before it was rubberstamped by the President as his plane waited to fly him back to Italy.
Before he headed off to Brussels that afternoon for another all-nighter to smooth through the EU Budget, Mr Kenny was triumphant.
He boasted that ?the annual promissory notes payments are gone? and all remnants of Anglo and Irish Nationwide were removed from the financial and political landscape.
But Pearse Doherty, speaking for less-than-convinced punters, evoked the cry ?Anglo is dead, long live Anglo?.
His youngest child has just started to crawl and despite not being born when the promissory notes were issued to save Anglo, the tot will be paying off the toxic debt when he?s 40.
Pearse isn?t even that old himself yet, but the thought of what?s ahead is putting years on him ? if he hasn?t aged enough during the Dail night of the jibes.
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