It was worth it — to stay in bed for an extra twenty minutes this morning, knowing it was going to cost me an $11 cab fare from the train station to my office. It was just one of those mornings. I even managed to fall asleep on the bus on the way to the train station. I left the rabble party at the Red Room relatively early last night, making it home and in bed by one. Not late for a girl who used to go out until three or four and make it to work to open the store at eight or nine.
I’ve been overbooking myself and darting back and forth to Toronto and Burlington and Hamilton way too much over the past few weeks. But, I poured a beer for Linda McQuaig, so it was well worth it!
It’s May, which is both wonderful and somewhat stressful because it’s full of birthdays, anniversaries, Mother’s Day and a whole bunch of other things that are hard on the wallet. My birthday party on the weekend was somewhat of a bust, but I took that to heart WAY too much. Instead of just enjoying myself, I took things out on Jordan (when he had been nothing but sweet all night) and there were tears and I said mean things, and I have this horrible feeling in my stomach because of it. It puts that cheesy Postal Service song in my head … “I am finally seeing, I was the one worth leaving.” I think he’s going to cook me a nice birthday dinner on the weekend, though really I feel as though I should be cooking for him. I’m a freaking moron sometimes! Maybe I’ll get wiser when I turn 25. Probably not.
In other news: Brought my dead basil back to life, bought a vintage typewriter to sit on my shelving unit at home, celebrated Evan’s 6th Birthday (and the first one in which he wasn’t still on chemo!), bought tickets to Hillside, going to see Leonard Cohen next week, turning 25 in a matter of days, and celebrating six years with my other half next week. I also forgot to blog about seeing Hamlet, at Stratford, which was lovely as per usual.
I’m on my way home to sleep, so that tomorrow morning I don’t have to lie in bed, debating what is more important: $11 or 20 minutes. I’m burnt out!
I’ve been overbooking myself and darting back and forth to Toronto and Burlington and Hamilton way too much over the past few weeks. But, I poured a beer for Linda McQuaig, so it was well worth it!
It’s May, which is both wonderful and somewhat stressful because it’s full of birthdays, anniversaries, Mother’s Day and a whole bunch of other things that are hard on the wallet. My birthday party on the weekend was somewhat of a bust, but I took that to heart WAY too much. Instead of just enjoying myself, I took things out on Jordan (when he had been nothing but sweet all night) and there were tears and I said mean things, and I have this horrible feeling in my stomach because of it. It puts that cheesy Postal Service song in my head … “I am finally seeing, I was the one worth leaving.” I think he’s going to cook me a nice birthday dinner on the weekend, though really I feel as though I should be cooking for him. I’m a freaking moron sometimes! Maybe I’ll get wiser when I turn 25. Probably not.
In other news: Brought my dead basil back to life, bought a vintage typewriter to sit on my shelving unit at home, celebrated Evan’s 6th Birthday (and the first one in which he wasn’t still on chemo!), bought tickets to Hillside, going to see Leonard Cohen next week, turning 25 in a matter of days, and celebrating six years with my other half next week. I also forgot to blog about seeing Hamlet, at Stratford, which was lovely as per usual.
I’m on my way home to sleep, so that tomorrow morning I don’t have to lie in bed, debating what is more important: $11 or 20 minutes. I’m burnt out!
No comments:
Post a Comment