My life is a tragic comedy.
Today I went to Toronto to go see Fantastic Mr Fox with Caelin (well, that was the plan…)
I wake up late and rush to the bus shelter so I don’t miss the bus. The bus blew right past me and I figure it must have been a bus out of service and continue to wait at the shelter until, 10 minutes before the next bus, it becomes painstakingly obvious that the bus simply did not pick me up.
As I sit on the bus I realise I’m not feeling so great but convince myself it must be hunger as I had not eaten breakfast. The rest of the bus and the ensuing train ride are uneventful.
I get to Union and decide to take the subway as it’s pouring rain and I didn’t bring my umbrella (the weather forecast wasn’t calling for rain…) and accidentally take it 3 stops too far. Most of the people on the subway had murder in their eyes so I decide to get off and walk back to where I’m supposed to be. I pass a drug store and pop in to buy an umbrella as my ruck sack doesn’t fair well with water and I’m carrying 6 of my favourite books and my camera which is equipped with a very new, very expensive lens. The drug store only has ladies umbrellas and they’re all 25 dollars… I buy one anyways.
I walk, getting my feet soaked, to Bloor where I come across a McDonalds and decide to buy something to eat as I’m beginning to feel worse and figure it’s extreme hunger. I get fries and after eating them my stomach begins to turn. I go into the washroom and am quite sick. Now I’m getting sick, trying to text Caelin and explain, and working myself into a tizzy because I feel awful about not being able to fulfill the plans. An employee brought me water, which was very welcome.
After about 45 minutes I decide to try and make it to Union station. As I walk through Queen’s Park (our province’s legislature) I am sick twice more. I hope that the rain washes it away before our politicians arrive to work tomorrow…
I chance the subway to get me to Union without incidence, which it does, wait for the train and hoping to the Lord above that my stomach has settled. I decide to read Kafka as I still have half an hour until the train comes. After reading for a while I look up and realise I have missed my boarding time by one minute and run up the stairs hoping the train hasn’t left the station. I get to the platform to see it in the distance; I yell “FUUUUCK ME!” loud enough to be heard within a 10 kilometre radius. This sort of public outburst is a first for me. I read more Kafka until the next train comes (an hour later).
The rest of the trip home was uneventful aside from a transit officer asking to see my ticket as the train pulls up to the end-of-the-line (if you’re caught without a ticket you’re kicked off at the next station…).
And that brings us to now. I still feel like shit both physically and mentally (I still feel terrible I wasn’t able to go see Fantastic Mr Fox) and I am significantly more poor after spending a good chunk of money for being able to get sick in a different place than my own home (a first!).
