One has the energy to write posts in the morning after honey cruellers. Cruellers DeVille.

Finished a two night stretch of work, have three days off. That's how it works, you see.

Encumbered by my various luggages- chair sort of cushion thing, full to bursting backpack, my jacket that I really did not need last night, and a nearly fossilized laptop (more on that later) it was slower going home today than usual.

But that's okay- because three days off!

Walking through York Mills subway station, the guy with the guitar looking for change (aren't we all?) starts playing Sounds of Silence and I love that song.

So I stuck around- because three days off- and sung along, did the wicked sweet drum beat for my own benefit "ch-k, tch-ku du daaaaaa"

I thanked him for the song, apologizing for my lack of change. I offered my unopened back of harvest trail mix (dried pineapple!) but he declined. I was hoping he'd decline.

The bus driver waited for an older lady to cross the street to hop on. Cool by me. (for the record, it'd have been cool even if I didn't have three days off)

Got home, shedding that luggage like a second skin, to emerge bare armed and much lighter, with a Tim Hortons gift card in pocket, to get something for my poor rumbly tumbly.

Head held high, enjoying the early morning air, sunshine, everything. I hopped the fence, that's what fences are for, before opting for a window seat to enjoy my toasted turkey sandwich on whole wheat with a honey mustard sauce, AND a little chocolate milk AND a honey crueller donut.

Back home, opening the fridge, I see I was left with shepperd's pie after all... I still liked the trip to Tm Horton's regardless.

Found two old letters for me I'd yet to open- one had hearts on the envelope! They were both just credit card things...

So that fossilized laptop. I brought that to work with me last night so I could type out my comic reviews ahead of time (snitches get stitches yo) it runs windows 98, and it turns out it doesn't even have a USB port for me to transfer the files over. Gotta find a floppy disk to get this done. After sleep.

Man, that laptop. That was like our only computer after we returned the homeschool program one in 1999. The only one with internet access- we had an even older computer hanging around. Wonder where that one is, I had some fanfics on that one. I made it so you needed a password to exit the screensaver. Naturally I forgot my password.

That laptop- I don't think the battery works anymore, gotta keep it plugged in. And turn it on in safe mode, because the whole thing is on the verge of a nervous crashdown.

If I want to keep writing on laptops I may have to get a model from this millenium. Or at least this century.

Came up with an idea for a quasi-autobiographical comic (fine, for faux legitimacies sake, "graphic novel") that boils down to my years of experience running; growing up physically sheltered because of constant bouts of bronchitis, my less than successful track career, to running to work and arriving more or less on time, but super sweaty and red faced, to now and some of the problems I've been having running-wise lately (buy the book to find out what!) all of which would be told using the visual vocabulary of a Flash comic, you know: speed lines, dynamic angles, struggling against- self, in this case.

The opening line would be (mirroring most Flash comics):

My name is (whatever name I'd choose here, probably not my own).

and I'm NOT the fastest man alive.

Yeah, this seems like a good idea to me.

***

So there's a thread on the facebook about some dudes going to Quebec for the long weekend, and myself and one other guy make a comment. Then the post originator says- if there was room you should come along.

What's great is, the OTHER guy says thanks for the offer, but he's already got plans. Well, hold up, that offer wasn't very specific, maybe the offer was directed at myself?

So I'm enjoying this because I keep imagining the scenario where I point out that maybe the offer was to me, followed by "one of us is sure going to feel awkward about this later." Maybe it's him, and his assuming the offer was for him is hilarious, BUT if the offer WAS supposed to go to him, and I'm way off base on this one, then it's awkward for old Isaac- and that's even funnier!

Maybe you had to be there... I haven't really had to verbalize this little scenario, I've been enjoying it in my head since yesterday morning. I was actually lying in bed thinking about it, and laughing to myself.

So trust me! This whole thing is totally funny.

Don't believe me, eh? Maybe I'll put it into my comedy routine just to spite you!

That would probably be a terrible idea.
...
Actually, maybe not...