One more day. One more day until I’m on holiday. I can handle one day of work, no matter how garbage it’s going to be. Oh, it will be utter rubbish as I strive in vain to clear up extra work so the rest of my team doesn’t have to pick up too much of my slack. Wait, why am I wasting thought on something that’s gonna be shit, when I could instead focus on non-poopy stuff?
Last night was just what I’d been looking for. This weekend was super quiet. A ton of downtime and early nights which, while not unpleasant, felt unbecoming of a long holiday weekend. I looked in vain at all the event pages to come up empty handed. In this goddamn metropolis, it looked like it was gonna be a silent night. Instead, one of my mates came through. He said his friend had been keen to check out Tilt, the arcade bar that seems to have been plucked straight from my wildest dreams. Free to play arcade games, pinball and N64. Great craft beer on tap for super reasonable prices. In short, paradise. Knowing just how noisy Tilt tended to get (drunken gamers yelling over noisy arcade machines), I proposed to my friend that we met up somewhere beforehand. Rather than drinking for drinking’s sake, I was craving social time. I wanted to loosen up and shoot the shit. Another one of my friends opted in, meaning we had enough players for a full ring of Wrestlemania. We met up at Crafty Coyote (a craft beer bar) and hung out.
Honestly, this was my favourite part of the night. One of my not so hidden pleasures is getting friends from assorted social groups to interact. It so rarely happens at parties, right? People tend to glom onto those who they already know. This was more a case of forced interaction, and it went well. My friend brought someone we’d met at Fake Prom last week and she turned out to be awesome. A friendly newcomer to Toronto, very switched on, riding a wavelength that really resonates with the kind of people I enjoy spending time around. It instantly felt like she’d been part of the group forever. We all chatted about old favourite albums, general pop-culture ephemera and how we knew we were getting old. The Shiny Bootleg Spiced Whiskey Cider proved a smash hit, with the entire table ordering a round. Look out for it if you’ve ever wanted to drink liquid gold.
This morning I felt the revels of the night before. I’ve got bad at hangover type symptoms. Now that I treasure weekends as a time to get shit done, I find lying around cradling my head to be a hard sell. So with five hours sleep and a low level headache under my belt, I skyped my parents then went for a run. After two days of decadent food and downtime, it felt great to remember what speed and motion felt like. Oddly, my brain worked itself out. I guess endorphins are like your body casting healing spells.
Of course, endorphins can only do so much. Whatever restoration I had from my five hours sleep and coffee have fled my body. I think I just deflated.
Oh well, it was nice having bones while they lasted.