Nice... Shoes?

I was walking back from the grocery store today, a bag in each hand, purse slung over one shoulder, black shoes hot in the sun. There's the usual traffic and construction going on along St. Clair Avenue, dogs walking in the parks, people strolling along in the sunshine for lunch, streetcars rumbling past every so often.

The lights at Spadina had just turned red. I slowed down a bit and suddenly, faintly, I heard somebody whistling nearby. But... it was one of those catcall whistles. Of course that wasn't directed at me.

Looking up, I saw a man in the second storey window of the corner house that's currently under construction inside. And he's looking directly down at me.

And he whistles again, slowly, now making eye contact.

I couldn't help laughing -- he was wearing a painter's mask to hide his face.

Anyway, he turned around and went back to his work and the streetlights changed and I continued walking home.

Quit It

Don't yell at me for not having a job... I'm working on it, all right?

Cutbacks At Work

I find it ironically amusing that, on my last day of work of my first real job, the coffee cup I bought this morning from Country Style says "freedom" on the side.

Freedom.

Freedom from what, from work? From usefulness? From salary??

So here is one of those new chapters in life that has another elusive title. Gosh, what the heck will I do next if I'm not testing smoke alarms?? Go back to school? Find a job that's within, like, a hundred kilometres of where I live? Move to a different city? Move to another country??! Travel? Change fields??

Crazy to imagine, exciting to anticipate, scary to follow through... Yay freedom!