Pop Corn Break

Yesterday Friday, as a normal Friday, everything was quite and slow. I think in general, during the week I received like 35 travel claims and 65 invoices. When last year around the same date of year, they were like 150.

I got a colleague who doesn’t work with me but we spoke often at the kitchen, my heating my lunch tupper ware and she her tea pot. She helped with the awful mistake I did with my therapist present, a little pink Begonia. Well, for my birthday she gave that plant. I think she forgot I hate plants, well, not exactly I hate them, but even a cactus dies with me. I have no sense of care for a plant, with an animal is different, the animal cries and you know something is wrong. Well, just a week before moving, the week where a heat wave slashed Ottawa, I had the great idea to put the little plant in the balcony, since the card says “sunny”. Believe, my intentions were sincere, I just wanted the plant happy and blooming.  After a couple of days, some leaves were falling, other looked like burnt and a branch dropped. So, Houston, we got a problem. At that moment, I remember that colleague. Her family name is Japanese but I think she’s 2nd or 3rd generation. I showed her the plant and with her clinical eye she told me the plant only had a heat shock, that everything will be fine with her in some weeks. And yes, the plant is doing well since, now the Begonia is my window at the office. I’m smart, eh? At the office, if there’s any problem I just can send her an email requesting help yes, I’m a lazy genius. As grateful as I am, I offered a pop corn sachet. Why pop corn? Since the very beginning I started working at the office, from time to time I smelled pop corn, around 2 or 3 pm. I discovered she was the pop corn maniac. In fact, because of that, we started to talk each other.

She sent an email and offered to share the pop corn and have a break with. We did it. She was telling, as if I was a therapist, the renovation she was doing at her kitchen. She had money because she inherit from his uncle, I guy who had bonuses in the stock market and had like 2 millions to distribute between his family. She got something like 80 000$. My first question “is that taxable?” She got cold….”I don’t know” well, she’ll figure it later I guess. She was telling me about his 2 sons, one who is 24 and got a advertising business. Apparently his business is doing well, they got the Google philosophy, work and have fun with employees. His other son gave up the design school. He’s talented, I saw his draws and watercolors, he’s not still-life guy type but figurative. Now, he works in the kitchen of a Tex-Mex chain fast food. She was explaining me about her hobbies, she like making pictures, some draws, carving and of course, gardening. She is a pro with plants. She was telling me all that while we were eating the pop corn.

And finally she asked me about my hobbies. I got frozen. My hobbies? That was my very first question I asked myself after my separation. What I like to do? for fun? me? fun? My brain analyzes everything even the Tim Burton’s movies. For a second I went to the past, the dusty one, and I figured until now I can’t answer that question properly. Before moving I was buying second hand CD’s since my ex bitch took all the original and pirate, mp3 illegally downloaded tunes you can imagine (don’t forget I worked in the National Library of Quebec in Montreal, l was able to copy everything I wanted), well, that collection is gone. Since it’s just 1$ I started to buy more. Still, why do I do for fun? I like photography but I didn’t tell her that. I like art, stamps, animals, old chicks with interesting boobs, music, politics, not going to restaurants and discovering the city. And I didn’t say that at all. I remember said something like music and I couldn’t answer very well that question.

The pop corn bag was almost empty and I just added I wanted she call me when she’ll start her garden, since I want to learn. That night after napping a couple of hours, around 7pm I was feeling a bit depressed. I knew weekend was ready to start…I check my phone, the contact list to see if I could call to somebody. The phones of the taxi, my Swedish 60-years-old friend, my therapist, the landlord, the Hull library, CAA, my boss, my accountant, a lesbian antipathetic sometimes friend from Gatineau, my stupid brainless best friend from Montreal, my mechanic, my friend from France, my German friend, my Osteopath and the old landlord numbers were displayed, other taxi companies appeared too. So, as you see, nobody in a Friday night to call or talk. I took the car and I drove to Barrhaven, I checked in some supermarkets looking for no name bread, no luck. In my way back, I stopped in Lebanese restaurant. I was looking for my new shawarma Ottawa spot. This place between Clyde and Baseline was often advertised. I tried the potatoes with garlic sauce. I have no idea if the potatoes had a kind of anise and the sauce was  a bit sour, I finished, well not choice, unfortunately, they won’t be my spot. I have to look for another one.

Just beside this shawarma place, I discovered the CD Warehouse, a store that in a Friday night looks totally empty thanks to Steve Jobs work. I was like entering to a museum. Full of cd’s and dvd’s….let’s face it, everybody now downloads everything, paying or not. It was amazing to visit a place like that and see that going to my second hand store is worth it. The collection and trivia they got is just impressive. It reminds me Archambault store in Montreal. The Jazz and classical section is very interesting, I couldn’t remember the Russian guy who composed some magnificent jazz works ( I took a break and I checked in Wikipedia), now I got his name, Nicolai Kapustin http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nikolai_Kapustin, I heard a work of him at church.

So I went home, with a bunch of peaches and avocados, I watched some tv episodes online and I went to bed…well, the laptop was in bed, me too, I think getting social to me is becoming critical.


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