A Skewed View

It appears to have made me more proactive during the work week. If I have some time left in the day after work is over, I actually run errands -- walk over to a mall to pick up the shoes I need (did you know you can't wear open-toed footwear if your office is technically "on set"? I didn't. After months of walking the other way if I saw the production manager coming, I finally picked up "proper set shoes"), or swing by a post office to grab a few stamps, or even grab the carton of milk I've been doing without for the past few days. It isn't so much that I am just that jazzed to keep my day going -- it's that I just don't know when the next free moment is going to come. "What about the weekend?", you may ask. Puh-lease. I have a day job now. The weekend is the only time I have for the mindless couch-potato television-absorption that has come to define my existence. Today I got off work early -- and by early, I mean "on...

-- A bus that came within minutes of me arriving at the bus stop to go home (when I'm usually waiting anywhere from 10-40 minutes ... bus schedules on my route home are apparently just ballpark guidelines)

It was two years ago yesterday that I landed in Toronto! Totally forgot. Might explain why I was in a nasty mood most of today -- my subconscious was pouty because I hadn't paused to pat myself on the back. My mood perked up a bit when I realized my boss and I were in the middle of a serious conversation about which sexually expressive pun he prefered me to clear, from a list of puns I had created. (-- I'd let you in on the choices, except perverts everywhere would then find my website when searching for their relative fetishes) Nothing tickles the funny bone like having a job that requires you to take the absurd seriously (and no, that wasn't the pun). Which also kind of leads to the basis of the back pat... The idea that someone who fears change with the ferocity that I do would get it into her head to drop everything, drive over three provinces, and begin all over again purely on her own impetus is lunacy. Lunacy! I remember once I got here, I felt like I could do ...