More like “playing to wince”.

SADNESS ABOUNDS. Or at least it needs to in order to fuel content for this week. Why has anguish consumed my very being? My tormented existence dragged over the searing coals of simply being? How much thicker can I lay on the melodrama? Let’s find out!


  • MEAT SWEATS. Sounds comical, right? One would think so until it left them soaking, overheated and incapable of escaping consciousness. Is my life getting repetitive yet? I had a marvellous slumber until the clock struck six in the am. I awoke, bloated and insufficiently rested. We made a big pork roast last night and the physical memory of that loin had clustered in the pit of my stomach. The rising temperatures outside meant our central heating did little to compensate. My room was basically an induction oven. I switched on my phone to play Pocket Morty (Pokémor?) and was delighted to get myself a Crazy Cat Morty (more like Kool Kat Morty). While parts of me would’ve really appreciated sleep, the other parts of me realised that I can sleep as much as I want when I die, but I won’t be able to play Pocket Morty then. A positive transaction, then.
  • I applied to an amazing internal position on Tuesday. I checked my work emails this morning and still hadn’t been sent an interview request. This felt strange, because the manager responsible was aiming to get interviews done this week and Friday was the last work day of this week. Applications closed yesterday, so I couldn’t think of a good excuse that they wouldn’t have gotten back to me. I went onto our company careers website and checked my application. Blank. There was nothing. This was particularly confusing to me, because I made a point of applying through the job portal. Still, nothing. I flashed back in my head to figure out what’d happened. I’d clicked on the application and uploaded my resume/cover letter. I clicked on those agreements and submitted my application. Then the site took me into a new page that made me create a profile. It was finicky and had way more detail than was necessary (find up to ten skills from this list of hundreds of skills and rank your ability with each skill). I completed the profile with the minimum required details (because let’s be honest, what manager really gives a shit about all of that?) and clicked finished. I was directed to a page that said “your profile is completed”. Done. I was greeted with an end page that had no further links. Satisfied with my application and the documents I’d uploaded, I went back to work. Upon seeing that my application had never gone through (likely because the site got sidetracked with that bloody profile page) and that I was outside the application period, I was deeply gutted. I emailed the manager responsible and explained my situation. I waited for several hours. I tried calling, but got no answer. I waited an hour and called again. Nothing. For fuck’s sake. Just before the end of the day I got an email back. She said she’d see if HR would accept my application, but with the impending merger, there was a likely chance of a hiring freeze prohibiting her from hiring anyone. Well fuck, Emily. Great work, Friday.
  • It’s my birthday over the weekend and my girlfriend and I are spending it together. I’ll host a party tomorrow night, but the day is ours to roam as we see fit. She asked me what I wanted to do, anything that sounded exciting in Toronto. I thought. I thought harder. Nothing came to mind. An entire city, but nothing jumped out at me as an exciting experience. I started getting existential. Is there anything I even like? What do I do? Who the hell am I? I still haven’t figured it out. I’m not interested in visiting an art gallery, a museum, there are no restaurants I’m excited to try. I think of a host of activities: Board game cafes, escape rooms, movies, rock climbing. Nothing seems especially appealing for tomorrow. Am I placing too much pressure on these as birthday activities rather than being fun things to do regardless? One thing I’d quite enjoy is an old school style coin-op arcade. Rows and rows of old game boxes with plastic joysticks and buttons. Somehow though, Toronto doesn’t have any. I want to play Snow Bros, Aliens vs Predator, Raptor, Moonwalker, The Simpsons, Metal Slug or Street Fighter 2 Alpha. Get Well is a fantastic bar, but I’ve played those games to death. I don’t want to look at the paltry “games room” offerings at a shitty Cineplex and play their rotting Time Crisis game. I just want to recapture nostalgia in a way that Toronto can’t provide. My brand of fun is no longer marketable and as such no longer exists. Out of everything this week, this may have evoked the most genuine sadness.
  • Silver lining, there’s always someone out there who still understands me.

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