Thirteen: Time Still Stands

The night is my playground.

I know something about myself and I know it more after the past few weeks. I love Mel. My decision to build my life around her is the right one. Without her I am untethered and aimless and listless. I wrote some and spent other times during the weeks doing various things, but I also wasn't motivated to do more. I had a hard time just sitting sfill in the apartment.

I'm actually proud of how I managed my time without her, but I had a surplus of it so as long as it wasn't all wasted I could call it a win.

I love her company and her understanding and her love. And she helps me be structured and a good man. But no matter who I ended up with, I would have always been a man apart. A man who lives in his own mind and covets those times he can be there. With her back I am back to using those times when she is asleep or away for as much of my own stuff as I can. My goal in life is to dedicate a closer percentage of what I do for her to myself as well. Not to balance it more for myself, but to just increase my capacity for it all.

She fell asleep early and I got caught up going down a rabbit hole about the ways Mini Pops Kids songs differ from their source material, prompted by my noticing they did a version of "Video Killed the Radio Star" while I was looking into the fact that that the Buggles version of that song is actually a cover. This is not, strictly speaking, a good use of my time butvit was my decision. Other nights I might write fiction (though my brain is usually too fried after the day to do so, except maybe TPI,) or do an X-Cerpt (on hold for August to focus on other things... like apparently threads about Mini Pops.)  Or do a BLTN post. As a consequence I deprive myself of sleep. A dangerous game. I'm trying to offset this by grabbing the occasional lunch hour for writing, although a lot of things need to go right for that scheme to work.

I had had trouble putting muself to sleep last night when helpfully, after an hour of rest, the fire alarm went off. And let me tell you when you live on the 67th floor, the fear of fire is a deeply existential one. What's worse is that after the alarm quieted they didn't do a firm "all clear." We had to wait in darkness, vaguely sure the danger had passed but still ill at ease and contemplating our fate. I had to Google around to ensure it was no longer an active fire incident on the Toronto Fire Dept's website. I think the issue was with the One York commercial building. It always seems to be. This after not sleeping great Tuesday night due to the lingering effects of Mel's jetlag.

Friday night whuke Mel was still away, I treated myself to a night out at Jack Astors because I really didn't feel like cooking and I thought that while I was unlikely to have the kins of adventures Eric often has, no matter where I was, I could only have such an experience if I did leave the house. So I went, I had my steak frites, and I came home and watched Masterchef and/or LOST season 4. Wooo.

Saturday, after writing time, I went back to Oakville to join Mama and Papa H on a trip to the Flamborough Downs casino, where they were picking up a gift. Anna stayed for some light gambling. I fed a few slots and wandered, unenthused, until I found roulette, which does actually entertain me. I put in $50, played for maybe 20 minutes or a half hour, and walked away with $32. I would say I got my $18 worth, sure.

The next day was our trip out to Fonthill to see Alan, Pat, Evan, Celeste, and the kids. I had good convos with the kids, and Celeste, although I think I made my final attempt to crack the nut thst is Evan. He remains quiet and guarded, and I made my best, but unsuccessful attempt, to engage him directly. And I'm good with people now (though not always necessarily *great.*) As evidenced by how well I got along with his wife and kids. For them, I fell back into the Fun Big Cuz role from Cam and Ali's youth, which is physically demanding, but if it's only once in a few years I can manage. Later, Porter was glued to Power Rangers on his tablet (by Ev's consent and to Celeste's  consternation.) Mighty Morphin even, not the new stuff. We played memory, and later Trouble, with Olive, and debuted new old pics of family. Lunch became dinner. A long day. The drive was not awful, albeit not ideal, given it was 2 hours jammed in the backseat between the two guys. At the end of the night I went home to Toronto and got in the door at 10. Not too bad.

I ate popcorn almost every day Mel was away.

Monday I got up and got back to writing at Starbucks. My intention was to take a break then get back to it but I ended up lolling along Queens Quay then taking the streetcar up to China town and then walking home, grabbing lunch and a McFlurry along the way. Actually a solid day. I ended up getting antsy again later and took another short walk before dinner, sitting and peoplewatching on the Quay, before having a late dinner of leftovers that had been meant to be a lunch the previous week.

Tuesday Mel came back, her flight 2 hours late. I had gone to get my health card renewed and then spent some time reading before going to Pearson. I went early (for her new arrival time)  and waited 2 hours but then after her flight arrived it took 40 minutes to depland. Sigh.

The week proceeded from there, although there could be lots to tell. I'm 3 days late in posting this since I dropped off after talking about visiting Fonthill. More for another time.

Keep on Rockin
-Scotto