16 healthy months – a winning streak with no cold, no flu, no sore throat – nothing. It was all ruined on
Friday when I pulled off the side of the highway and closed my eyes: “oh no… I can’t make it…” but… I had to go. Yes. I had to make a 1 hour presentation off-site to justify their investment in us. Yes. I wore stiletto heels. Yes. It was dry. No. I didn’t have to laugh at their jokes. I projected an
abysmal project on the screen and asked for improvements openly, instead of covering up the flaws. They appreciated and commented thoroughly. Good.
At 11:00, I quietly parked at the Tim Hortons to make a call to a man about a job downtown communicating economic data. Fun stuff. I watched the transport trucks. The highway. The people walking in ones and twos with coffee cups. My black steering wheel. My head was down. I sat psyching myself up: “oh no… I can’t do this…” but suddenly he called. In hesitant tones he told me about the position and said he wanted “first crack at me” if I was to enter the industry. Yes. It sounded interesting. Yes. This guy would be better than my current boss. No. I would not regret saying goodbye to her. No.
But… I wore myself out. I made myself more sick and spent most of the weekend in bed. Yes. I talked to mum. Good.
Today I walked around looking at the neighborhood which I am leaving. The coffee place. The park. The decrepit houses. The beautiful gardens. The wild people with pink hair. The activity and pulse. Yes. I’ll miss it. Yes. I am moving again. Yes. I have been the only person to sleep in this bed. Yes. My roommate is too pushy. She walks around naked and gives me orders like I am a pet instead of a paying tenant. No more. No.
I read a practical book, which I later noded, in the sun. I talked to my secret boyfriend. He was on my cell as I watched happy young couples walk by. A man with prints of sushi on his shirt. A man with incredible charm making everybody laugh. A man with tattoos and a gentle voice. But the only one I wanted was the one on the phone. Yes. He is tall and brilliant. Yes. He cares for me. Yes. He is what I want. Yes. He has a wife. Yes. I feel happy but guilty. He said he wished he could go on holiday and read all of his 6,000 books. Sweet. Me too. Good.