Wouldn't It Be Nice?

Ever read any Jack Kerouac?

Wouldn't it be nice to start a new beat generation?

I think so.

My Legs Hurt

My legs hurt. Is that so weird? After standing for upwards of 8 hours a day, even in my cushy running shoes, at the end of my day, my legs and sinews and bones and joints and tendons ache. Today I wondered what it would be like if the floor of my place of work was a giant air hockey table and I could just float over it like a wayward puck. Sweet....

So today, finally after weeks of nothing but brilliant sunshine, was pissing rain. The wet, ploppy, drippy, drumming kind that cuts in sideways under your umbrella, soaks the fronts of your legs and drips through your shoes. The kind that sprays up from under cars wheels in a grey film, as they go sluicing by. I ran into one of my friend's parents, who was also taking the bus and we spent a good 40 minutes chatting about biking, and writing and travelling. He tried to sell me a travel book of his, which I appreciate being a writer myself, but I am dead broke right now and trying to save up for my trip... which also makes no sense considering that when I got to work early, I bought myself a coffee and then a travel book, "Central America on a Shoestring." But not before watching a pompous looking 30-something return his coffee to the barista and demand his money back, "This is garbage," he mumbled as he strode out of the store.

So when I came home from work it was still raining. Oddly enough, for the first time since last year it was light outside almost until 7. The sky was dark but rimmed in a golden splash of late evening sunshine. I strode to the skytrain, legs aching, holding my breath through puffs of cigarette smoke in the brisk air.

And now I sit and write my post, I have polished off my dinner, demolished a bag of Cadbury Mini-Eggs and drank my hot chocolate. Now I am ready for my late night... ahhhh time to start the essay I have procrastinated on until 10 pm the night before it's due... Excellent...