March Slav

I usually do my laundry early enough that no one is there though near the end, some people might come in. This was no different on Sunday as a couple arrived as I was folding my clothes. With his partner on the wooden bench checking her phone, the guy took out a medium format camera and surreptitiously clicked few shots through a washer's round window. The era of the hipster was at least 15 years ago and he'll have to grow better facial hair.

I stuck close to home, with food from Progress Bakery and South Pacific, for few hours of work to meet a work deadline. In the late afternoon, I received news that our new team lead had resigned 2 months in. Their 2 weeks notice was cut short because my boss was already fed up with the lack of leadership. So no point in dragging out the situation. I also reached out to an ex-coworker who had pinged me about a concert last week. But our conversation always covered the same ground: missing out on the real-estate market, being stuck in an old building (made worse because they never reported some flooding they had caused). I was a bit concerned that pining for their youthful days has led them to hang out with teenage children of friends.

Monday was in full fire-fighting mode. I finally looked at some of the other people's progress. The problem was nobody wanted to do grunt-work, only the shiny new stuff. So now all the missing scaffolding was discovered. After I wrapped up my work, I wanted to head out to de-stress. The Indian restaurant from Friday (Chakna/Desi Junction) was hosting a show called Naan Sense Comedy. I didn't mind the cover charge ("free" but you had to order a drink or some food). But it wasn't a big room and sharing a table with strangers didn't appeal. I didn't usually eat at comedy shows so I had a flashback to a dinner-and-a-show at Yuk-Yuk's in Ottawa with my crush. In the bad old days, comedians could make "they're eating the cats, they're eating the dogs" jokes and you had to be a good sport about it.