Just Talkin About Stuff

People are assholes. The other day I'd been out in the pouring rain, applying for jobs. On my way home, I bought three bags of groceries. My feet were dying in my high heeled shoes, the groceries were digging into my frozen fingers - I had to hold the bags in one hand because my other hand was struggling with my umbrella. My purse kept slipping off my shoulder, forcing me to stop, set my umbrella on the ground, yank up my purse, wrench my hair out from under the strap, set the grocery bags down to give my other hand a break, pick up everything again and limp on homeward. A car came up the street toward me and swerved so that it would roar through a gigantic rain puddle and splash me. The tidal wave of water poured over my head, drenching me and my groceries and soaking my dress pants to my knees. The car rushed away as I stood there gasping.

People are creepy. On Halloween I answered my phone, and heard static. Then a man's voice said very clearly "There's trouble in the barn, at the federal farm, on Queen's Road." I said "Hello?!" The voice repeated the sentence, with exactly the same inflection. I realised it was probably a recording. I hung up. The call came again an hour later, exactly the same as before. On the day of Christmas Eve, I got the call again. It was exactly the same, except that when I said "Hello?!" after hearing the voice go through its odd spiel, I heard the sound of rewinding - as though someone had pressed the rewind button to bring the tape back to the start of the sentence. Then the voice started again ... "There's trouble in the barn, at the federal farm, on Queen's Road." I hung up. Up the street from my apartment building is a neat little old fashioned store that sells vegetables and fruit - it's called "Queen Street Farms". I asked the salesclerk there if they have anything to do with something called "The Federal Farm", but she said no. As far as I know, there is no Queen's Road in this area. Yesterday I got the call again. Creepy.

People are funny. The other day I was out applying for jobs. I had my hair pulled back into a bun, and my long, black coat buttoned to my throat. As I waited at the crosswalk for the light to change, an elderly man came up beside me in his motorised wheelchair. He looked me up and down and said "Is that a hab..." He glanced up at my face "Are you a nun? Of the Catholic church?"

I've decided to end my boycott of waitressing jobs. I had been avoiding applying for this sort of work, but now I've made the decision to try for these as well. Beggars can't be choosers. Besides, if I was able to handle the stress of Sears menswear department during the mania of Christmas, I should be able to handle waitressing. Not to mention, with the higher rent I'll be paying at my new apartment, I'll need all the money I can get, so the tips will come in handy. Tomorrow I'll go out to apply at International House of Pancakes (my mom's all time favourite restaurant).

When I moved here from the Island, I had my piano brought over to my youngest sister's family home. They were thrilled to have it, and found a great place for it in the livingroom of their brand spankin new house. I was glad to be able to play it whenever I visited my sister and her family. Now it looks like I'll have it again in my own home! The apartment where I'll be moving next wednesday is on the ground floor. I've asked if it's okay for me to have a piano in my suite, and the building manager told me it's fine, as long as I don't play before 10am, or after 10pm. My mom has looked into hiring men and a truck from the second hand store where she works, and it looks like a go! All I need to do now is measure the opening through the fence surrounding my patio, to make sure it will fit. It seems unbelievable to me that I'll finally have my piano again - it's been nearly two years. Of course I feel awful taking the beautiful piano away from my sister and her family after they've had it for only a few short months. So I've offered them my electric piano as compensation. It's not the same of course, but at least it's something.

Eight days from now at this exact time, I will be in my new home. It will be a relief to leave this cell behind.