...from the laundromat...

I hate doing laundry. Actually, that's a lie. What I really hate is not having laundry facilities that actually work in my building, or better yet a washer and dryer in my apartment. It's just another one of the myriad of things that are wrong with my building. It sure does make me miss good 'ol Unit #15....*sigh* (I used to live in a townhouse complex with 4 other girls, which, comparatively looks like the Ritz). At any rate, I'm currently waiting for the wash cycle to finish so that I can drag my laundry over to the super-turbo-rapido (so false advertising) dryers that I suspect of having recently melted one of my shirts.

That being said, I'm sitting in Tim Horton's which is interesting in and of itself. I remember when I took a psychology course in first year and one of the exercises we had to do was to take a trip downtown and sit in a public place and observe people - sitting in Timmy's sort of reminds me of that experience. It's an interesting study to just people-watch. Especially in Tim Horton's. There are all kinds here...a young family with a little brunette girl dressed in a tiny pink pea coat and matching pink boots...a single guy drinking a large ice cap and reading the Sunday edition of the Globe and Mail...a 20-something couple drinking coffee and holding hands...two adult women sharing tea and laughing...an old man sitting alone with a small coffee...and me, with my laptop. I think I'm out of place.

When I'm people watching I find that I can easily place myself into the lives of those I'm scrutinizing. What if I were the mother who made sure her daughter's coat and boots matched? (I know, I know, I probably will be that mother). What about that couple by the window? Would I have the same reaction to whatever it is he's saying to his partner? What is it he's saying? ....it feels like that Sheryl Crow song...you, know "a happy couple enters the bar/dangerously close to one another..." Except I'm not in a bar. And I'm not Sheryl Crow. I just think I have an over-active imagination, I think that's also why I can't watch scary movies. I put myself into whatever I'm watching and it becomes too real.

So the most exciting thing about today is that fact that I didn't have to work on my 30-page paper. A miracle happened last night. My prof emailed me that he had to travel to BC because his father is ill, and he needed me to oversee a few of the administrative things for his lectures and tutorials. That was fine by me, but I needed to know what he wanted me to do about the three grad essays that he was supposed to accept in our class Monday night. I emailed him back asking if he wanted me to collect them or if we should put them in his drop box, or perhaps give them to him when he returned? And that's when the miracle happened. He emailed me back and said our papers weren't due until December 5th. I almost cried. I've spent the last 5 days cocooned in my room writing about a Muslim vigilante group in South Africa called People Against Gangsterism and Drugs. The members of the organization are people who, shockingly, are against gangsters and drugs in their community. I know. It's fascinating. And now I have a whole other week to make sure I get in all the riveting details! Be happy for me.

And now I've got to go and empty the washers...