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Category Archives: the boring, the mundane and the usual


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IMG_1630.jpgI got the urge to sit down and write and it’s just because. Nothing is going on. I feel good, for the moment. I just want to set some words down, however meaningless. Perhaps it is because of this Mindful app I downloaded. It asked me to choose 3 items from a list of goals or life changes that I wanted to accomplish and one that immediately leapt at me was commitment, which I have not been keeping. It’s not easy, I’m a chronically ill procrastinating dreamer who hasn’t been able to stay committed to a lot of resolutions and positive life changes I’ve tried to instill into my life. Maybe I am tired of the constant struggle. It’s all work. Sometimes I would just like things to happen if I do what I am meant to do, run smoothly, but they don’t.

I’ve also been doing a lot of thinking about my future and what it holds.  I’ve done it often and it held different forms. I alternate between hopeful and catastrophic. I know what it won’t be the OK I used to envision. It has always been in the form of simplicity and humble which is fine by me because I am realistic about the provisions I have made for it and what I want out of life. Satisfaction imbued with a feeling of worthiness. A small home that is mine. I hope that it will be on wheels so I can go wherever I want. That is reaching I know, but it is certainly more likely than brick and mortar. Then, of course there are the medical considerations. I beginning to think my GP regards me as a hypochondriac. They seem to present as mysteries to neurologists, internists and some other “ists”.I’m beginning to think that these professionals may think I enjoy the rarity and mystery as if they make me special. I never wanted to be special like this!

I think about what I can do in this forum. I want to create a niche for myself, but my thoughts are scattered, everywhere and nowhere at once. I continue to ponder but first, the words. They are in the box. That’s a beginning.

i wonder wonder wonder

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i’ve got, count ’em, 10 drafts sitting and gathering dust, haunting me. i see them every time i launch my dashboard. 10 posts i stopped writing for whatever reason. 10 posts i didn’t have the guts to post. 10 posts where i just ran out of words or just didn’t have the heart to finish and post out in the world at large. some are very personal, but i’ve tread into sensitive territory before, letting my ass hang out there without proclivity. for some reason with a couple of these posts i simply just didn’t. now, after some time has passed i feel like i can’t, even though they aren’t time sensitive. and now what to do? do i put my nose to it, finish them and put them up or give up on them entirely and delete them?

the last of those posts i started today and i think i just won’t get to the end of that one either, but i am not inclined to do anything about it just yet. i’ll make up excuses. i’ll say to myself that it’s silly or pointless, that my to-do list tells me i’ve got a million other things to do, that my shoulder is beginning to ache (which is absolutely true) and i need to get off of this chair for a spell, or i’ll just not do anything about it until a morning like today where i will open it read it and ponder it some more.  the great canadian novel isn’t going to get written this way, but then how would i beat myself up for being such a procrastinator or gutless wonder?

i suppose i should i feel accomplished that i did write this contribution and post it, a whining, driveling addition. it’s something, even if it’s not very much. i did, however, take this picture recently. this counts as something, right? it’s completely unrelated and irrelevant insofar as this post is concerned, but it’s kinda pretty.

a small sacrifice to satisfy the writing gods

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i opened this box about a  week ago and eventually just closed the page. ignoring it and being reminded that i was hopelessly procrastinating was getting to me. but it was only because i couldn’t find any words to fill it. none.

i figure this habit is getting me nowhere, so today i just started typing, see what sort of result i could come up with. i just tweeted about my ridiculously elevated blood pressure. i know it’s high because of the set of strange physical sensations that accompanies the jacked up numbers. what i am most thankful for, however, is the fact that it didn’t coincide with the vertigo that isn’t vertigo-like condition that my doctor has not been able to diagnose. that would mean i would be flat out in bed, wishing that there was someone or something that would put me out of my misery. so, from that perspective, i feel relatively spiffy and shiny.

what are those strange physical sensations you say? well for one i feel sort of like i am a little bit high. like i am slightly disconnected from my body. my limbs, especially my arms require a certain concentration to function, and my hands are considerably colder. like i was out skating on an outdoor rink without any mittens just a little bit too long. (yes, i wear mittens, it’s the practical thing to do in sub-zero temperatures.) my face feels tight, like i am trying to push it through some obstacle leading with my face, and my cheeks feel hot as if i have experienced an acute shame or embarassment. my vision is a tad blurry. even with my glasses on. oh yes, and i want to puke. elegant, right? tomorrow, or at some point in the future, if i should reread this post, i will have a much more eloquent and evocative description of the set of sensations i am feeling now, but i am cramming stuff into the box, no time for deep contemplation or reaching for the perfect words. i am gettin’ ‘er done.

i am about accomplishments today. i just finished posting a dozen or so pictures into my photoblog, so i have no reason to reach for more, but i am. i am running out of steam. i don’t know why i am engaging in this exercise. no one really wants to read about the minutae of my life. i don’t cook, sew, crochet or create beauty out of nothing. i’m just plodding along in my little life, making due. it’s as if i am chasing a dream and the spectre of the images i can’t quite remember and the memory of it haunts me.

but enough of that for now. right now i have more mundane matters to attend to. there’s a library book that needs returning and shopping to be done.

no-sun sunday

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today is a slow and lazy sunday. shaun is working on his guitar trying to get a certain riff just right. i think some earplugs are in order. it's not all music to my ears.

it's raining. i knew already by the colour of the day, and through the slits of grey i could see through the blinds of the bedroom but i had to come out and take a long look out the balcony window anyway. just for confirmation, you know. nothing else to look at save for the apartments across the street, a nondescript 3 story brick thing, however as nondescript goes it is a much nicer building than the one we are in.

apparently we face north, but you couldn't tell by looking. no mountains to be seen in the distance. the street slopes up sharply to the left in front of our building and only serves to disorient me. i'm really not much for views million dollar or otherwise, but i like to see something interesting. my favourite vista was the one i took in from my gloucester street toronto apartment; south facing, 6th floor. i could see everything to downtown toronto. it being one of the tallest buildings in the area. the only one that trumped me was 100 wellesley, which unfortunately, was located directly south. i used to imagine i could even get a tiny peek of lake toronto if i looked hard enough.

not now. but for the moment this will have to do. beggars can't be choosers, i the meantime. this whole area is populated by similarly bland, youngish buildings, stitched into fabric of the senior citizen architecture of the surrounding area.

fat and not happy about it

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there’s a guy who sells hotdogs near the future shop for over $5. I couldn’t believe my own eyes. He extolled the virtues of all the fresh and wholesome ingredients. I took a picture of it, now i just have to figure out how to squeeze the picture out of my blackberry. that just so wouldn’t fly at church and wellesley. no one has that much change to spare after a big night out!  i had one in front of the art gallery that had such a dizzying array of price points that i had a serious misunderstanding with the vendor and in the end i had to state with a sort of aggressive firmness that i was paying $3 and no more because that is what i wanted and that is what the menu stated was the price.

myself, no more eating hotdogs for me, or anything trashy. all that eat drink and be merry on the trip across has padded me out a lot more than i like. i’ve got a big of a muffin top that forms over the band of my comfiest jeans. it’s got to go. i got my wii, now i have to use it like nobody’s business. and some daily stomps around the neighborhood are definitely in order.


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i’m feeling light-headed, woozy, weak and vaguely ill, but not nearly as bad as i did yesterday, though there were a few moments i wished my body would simply betray me and collapse in a heap, so i could get myself home and back to bed. i dealt with the breakthrough pain as recommended by some others, which is to whack hard back at it, with an extra dose or two of regular, mind-arresting tegretol. i’ve been taking the time-release version of it lately; enough to stun an even larger animal, but apparently not enough. i’m not sure how much stock i put into this whole "time release" thing. i am assuming it’s been working, but now i’m not so sure. now, back in when-will-the-other-shoe-drop land, i am feeling anxious and wary. this just plain sucks.

I got on the streetcar and sat at the very back left seat facing front, knees canted to the left to give me more legroom. as we rumbled along I stared out the window–sans iPod once again–a funeral procession passed me by. I wondered a bit when I noticed a police car pass moving slower than they ever do. it always make me sad even though I don’t know who the person was or the people who have lost someone they cared about.  the day seemed to echo the sentiment, grey and gloomy.

on the way up to the office i craned my head up to engage in that favourite elevator pastime of staring anywhere but at the person sharing it i saw that apparently it’s 18 in new york. don’t they say it’s lovely in new york in the spring? i do wish i could go again. s. doesn’t have much desire to visit any US destination, but especially New York. i’m not exactly sure what his mad-on is, because he appreciates architecture and history as much as i do.

hot and steamy and not too dreamy

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be careful what you ask for.
i was speakin’ with the weather gods there last week,
doing my best to commune with them. see if they could
finagle some more serious sunshine for this bit of time off.
got it. in spades. i don’t want to complain but it’s a wee bit uncomfortable.
i like the heat, don’t get me wrong, but i don’t like being cooked.
the fan beats out a constant tempo above my head, pushing the dense air around
as i make attempt at sleeps in the heat. i’ve taken to practically living in my bedroom
when i’m not out. it’s the cooler room of the two. the one without the pilot light.
makes sense, i guess.
i’m going to play tourist again today.
haven’t decided where i’ll go just yet, but that’s part of the fun.
maybe riverdale farms, maybe st. lawrence market, maybe the islands–toronto, that is.
get there by way of the shady side of the street.


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i’m finally home. didn’t think i’d ever make it. i hoofed it the first 45 minutes and dogged it the latter. i didn’t think it was quite as far as it was, but i wasn’t surprised because i’ve made this navigational judgement error before. that time i thought my destination was queen when it really was college. only today i thought i was going to college when i was actually headed to bloor (and bathurst).

i was committed to walking, and once i was doing it, i was doing it. only one streetcar passed me, packed enough to reduce temptation even further. i was suffering some sort of low pressure syndrome and i felt light headed most of the way. i thought it would lift as i began to walk, but instead it only got worse. when i stepped up the pace to speed the trip by faster, i thought i might just pass out, so i kept it steady and tried to occupy my mind with other small tasks until i got where i was going. about 5 blocks to my destination i was struck suddenly with the urge to go to the washroom. i knew that a few blocks away was a starbucks; the only place close i could think of with a bathroom. it occurred me how little access there are to toilets in that part of the city where there isn’t a mall in sight. i figured the cost of a cuppa was worth the price to use decent facilities and thought perhaps the shot of caffeine would help to perk me up. it really only helped to intensify my pounding head. 

i got to my destination and once i started out again i had to force myself to continue with walking the rest of the way home…..left foot right foot….i didn’t t stop because i worried i’d lose momentum.  like earlier today in the stairwell. 27 flights of stairs from ground to our floor. this, another one of my "exercise by default" brainwaves. i’ve devised this notion of incorporating exercise into my daily life through activities i’m already doing or that need getting done. lately i am more keen on the notion because i altogether lack the energy once home and can’t seem to get my lazy ass out of bed early enough to get exercise out of the way in the morning. god knows i need it, with sluggish metabolism my new enemy. once in the stairwell i am committed to ascending all the way up, because the doors are locked along the way. this isn’t entirely fact, because the cross over floor doors are open, but it would seem like such a cop out. so up i go. 8 minutes approximately. i count the steps–20 to each flight. around about 540 steps in all. i was completely exhausted by the effort. seems ridiculous. i can say one thing though, those gym stairclimbers have nothing on the real thing.

an inconvenient reality

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i slathered on the sunscreen and put on a hat and took a stroll into
the sun, or rather the warm. i now avoid the sun. especially since i
discovered even more splotches developing on my face even after only
mere, prudent minutes exposed to standing in the sun. 20 degrees felt like a hundred
under its direct gaze. i couldn’t take it. my newest and latest
physical anomaly is that my eyes water and run. constantly. it probably
looks like i’m crying. i’m dabbing my eyes only to stop my mascara from
running. now i don’t want to get all woe is me, but while i’m toting
around these very physical afflictions–yes, not life-threatening, but
incredibly bothersome, noticeable and life impacting–who is getting
all the gravy? this girl walked past me yesterday; whiter than the
average piece of copy paper, with bare arms and bare head. if i gambled
i might say she eschewed sunscreen too. i envied her that she could be
so carefree.  and it certainly didn’t look like her eyes were shedding rivers of tears like
gigantic sad eyes.

up the dingy stairwell from the back door and into my second floor
hallway, the smell of mothballs pervades and overwhelms. it’s recent
and persistent. when it first assailed my nostrils, i figured someone had just dug something out and the smell would
dissipate soon, but that was over a week ago, and it has been cloying our end of the
hallway ever since. if anything the odor has intensified. since we don’t have
storage i have no idea where the offending item(s) could have come
from, but it’s got my mind whirring. too many detective shows perhaps. i suspect, if anyone, the culprits are the old
couple around the corner in 206. only because i don’t think people (kids these days) even know about
mothballs and would never swathe their clothing with
the unadulterated, harsh chemicals they contain.


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i’m slowly modifying my life to become a more ecologically friendly human. i don’t know how far i’ll get up the evolutionary scale, but i’ve made a start.  i got those fluorescent energy efficient bulbs–even though it’s come to be known they might spontaneously burst into flame, or at least get so hot, melt down and set something else on fire. i am shifting to (expensive) eco friendly washing up liquids and laundry detergents and biodegradable garbage bags. i run less water. (i would say skip recycled tp, it is not particularly human friendly.) i continue to recycle, as i always have; opting for electronic bills into my email instead of paper into my mailbox.  every time i go out to the recycling bins i spend time sorting through other people’s leavings, taking the bottles out of the paper bin and pulling paper out of the containers bin and putting them where they’re meant to be. it’s sort of like dumpster diving without the eureka moments. it’s a pet peeve that drives me crazy. if you are going to make the effort to do something, do it properly. one day i found a whole bag of bottles in the garbage! what is the deal with that? the garbage bins and recycling are practically equidistant to the back door. it would it have been just as easy to trot it in the direction of the recycle bins, a few short steps, but instead expediency and lack of diligence trumped common sense.

i finally put together the portable washer i bought online and brought home a few weeks ago. it is water and energy efficient and ecologically friendly, since it is human powered and uses a tiny amount of detergent and mere quarts of water. the maiden wash was last night. i was skeptical of the small canister’s ability to truly hold a loadful, but its size is deceptive. i was a little gentler with it and didn’t cram it to capacity like i do the machines downstairs, but it did hold a half blue ikea-bag of clothes. the procedure is a bit sloppy and damp, but somewhat therapeutic. it takes all of 2 minutes hand cranking for a full load; good exercise for the arms to boot.

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