Last night was a rocky rollercoaster ride of joy and despair, smooching and sadness, pubbing and waiting interminable lengths of time at a bus station that looks like a cement bunker built to withstand a nuclear barrage.

I did take JVL dinner at the Snail, we met, we smooched, we had seasons in the sun. Then there was some unfortunate misunderstanding about the “saying goodbye” ritual, and I got on the subway for ye olde pub in the Village of Davis in a blue mood. At the pub I got to see some of my long-unseen peeps, such as: and his lovely compadre , who was in fine knitting form, accompanied by T-Odd and his bro, Dave; and her lovely sister and cousin ; who shredded coasters like a woman who really has a grudge against beverage mats, and her lovely roommate , who chatted out with me over video games for a solid half hour. Come to think of it, that was a big crowd!

Anyhow, three hours of amusing conversation and geeking out later, I decided to part ways with our merry crew and head home, via the Lawrence *east* subway station/bus stop. Bad call. The bus took about a bizillion years to arrive, while I sat on a bench in the area that smelled the least like urine, watching the flickering fluorescent bulbs on they grey cement walls gutter slowly out of life and trying to avoid eye contact with the man who stared intently at me while his hands did a merry jig in his pants. A quick phonecall to JVL did little to assuage my commuting angst, since he was not, as I would assume at 9:45pm on a Thursday, keeping the home fires burning in Weston, but was in fact, still downtown at the Snail, working.

So after 45 minutes on the bus and a 15 minute walk to the house because I passed out during the ride and missed my stop, I was a little grumpy to come home to an empty house. Inspired by a moment of suburban rage, I began to quite literally tear at the walls. I ripped all the wallpaper off the kitchen, tore down the cupboard over the breakfast table, and tried to pull out the fridge, but at that point it was 11:30pm and JVL arrived home. He was very sleepy after a long day at work, and I was worn out from my impromptu renovations, so we both crashed out in bed.

And then, this morning… OH MY GOD IT’S NINE THIRTY I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE AT WORK AN HOUR AGO!!! I overslept. I think I forgot to set the alarm altogether. Poor Justin had a heck of a wake-up call on his day off, as I scrambled frantically around, trying to get dressed and figure out a way of transporting myself supersonically back in time so as not to be arriving at work at *best* two hours late on the last planning day before a massive media event. No dice. The bus toodled along and got me to the subway, which toodled along and got me to work. So now I’m here and it’s my “lunchhour” and I am doing the much-needed LJ mind-dump.

Meanwhile, plans for the weekend are a’changin at lightning speed. Since my Big Media Event is on Monday, and planning is not falling together as smoothly as I’d hope at 3pm on a Friday, I will likely have to come in to work at Queen’s Park on Sunday afternoon. Sunday at noon *was* supposed to be ‘s birthday brunch, but I think that’s been cancelled. Sunday evening is book club in Mississauga. Saturday I will likely hang out with Mum, and probably try to address the issue of the glue and paper residue bedecking my kitchen walls.

Going to call my tenant again today to find out what the hell is going on with my rent cheque. Their response was “we’ll call our bank to find out what happened and mail you another cheque”. Not good enough. These people are really pissing me off. Then another call to my plumber, who is MIA. Why can’t people just *achieve*???

This is probably my last post for the next three days, so I wish you all a festive and relaxing weekend! Don’t take the bus!