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The Public Ineffectual

For entertainment purposes only.

Thursday, October 27, 2005

"Rumours of My Death Have Been Greatly Exxagerated" *

I've been working here for 2 months now and on the one hand, I feel like I just barely got the seat warm and on the other, I may as well have been born in this cubicle for its familiarity. Being my last week, I knew it was going to be a tough one no matter what happens. Its like breaking up, only your job is your lover. (This only applies if you're not made of stone or jelly, you're in possession of a limbic brain and spinal cord and a little integrity about your self and work.)
My workmate/taskmaster, Zach, presented me with a swag of TV branded booty as a thanks-goodbye-goodluck and that made the end really real.

I've traded in my iPod for my earplugs and I've been full steam ahead and finishing stuff. I'm happy to be able to get back to my old Montreal life to capitalise on this momentum. Since I got here, my life is an airborne Boeing 747, circling over the city waiting for the fog to lift as I await the "all clear" from the control tower...all the while well aware of limited fuel reserves. This lumbering beast needs to come in for a landing. It may take a couple of attempts and I may even crash. Crashing, of course, is just a spectacular means to the same ends.

This is not to say I've been unhappy in Toronto - far from it, in fact. I've managed to (re)affirm to myself that I can pretty much get along in any city. And I haven't been lonely but I've also realised more than ever how much people can make the difference in getting you in and out of your orbit. (I'm a bit slow, what else can I say?)

I've largely kept to myself here but I've met some cool people and I'm always grateful for that. I saw The Roots in concert finally at the Docks and they kicked more ass than your puny mind can conceive of, they were that good. I made it to Koreatown and Koreatown North (North York) and Chinatown and Chinatown East. Toronto's bike path system is awesome as they are numerous and numbered like highways. Public transport is a joy but it costs a pretty penny too. I lived in an area a local called "cracktown" as mentioned in an earlier post but I never so much as got heckled even as I passed the two missions within a block either side of my apartment building. Maybe that goes can be attributed to Ontarian Protestant politesse.

*Mark Twain


At 11:19 AM, Anonymous work from home in the uk said...

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