Sitting home Friday night

What shall I do? What are the options?

I could start looking through the constituency tally sheets to figure out where’s the best place to canvass for my candidate.

I could start my new book The Empty Ocean, which is about the depletion of fish stocks in the world’s oceans.

I could read the Genuine Progress Index Report on Nova Scotia’s ecological footprint, which is four hundred pages long. The report, not the footprint. The footprint is 8 hectares I think.

I could blog.

I could ring someone I know. Except you’re all in bed or busy right now.

I could watch tv, except I haven’t done that for four months now, so I don’t really want to start again.

I could go to bed.

I could take a bath.

I could start my novel.

I could play Blackshift – I’m up to level 16.

Hmmm……….. I don’t really want to do any of those things.

What have I been doing? I’ve been sitting outside. But I had to come in. It was getting kind of cold. So I’m in now. And I’m typing. Which is good. But I’m feeling kind of restless, so I don’t know how long this will last.

I think of great things to write while I’m sitting outside, enjoying the cold. And the students hollering. Man, they get drunk quick over here. None of that conversation in the pub rubbish. Let’s just get shitfaced and lift a car. I swear. Maybe I’m living in Jocksville. I probably am, I just haven’t realised it yet.

Hence the joggers.

But that’s another post.

So yeah, writing.

So anyway, weekends.

I was thinking about weekends when I was sitting outside. This is my first weekend on my own for a long time. I was really miserable all week thinking about it. And last night I crumbled a little bit. Hung up on Himself in Alberta. But he just thought the signal went. It goes a lot. In out, in out, oh there’s a deer running across the road, I just have to change gear and go down a big hill – c&(*&(*&_)&_*)&(*&)(*^%^$&$£%$£ BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

It does my fucking head in.

So I just hung up. And threw the phone against the wall. And started packing to come home. And then I sat on the edge of the bed and looked at myself. And started laughing eventually. And then I rang him back. And he was back on the road and the deer were all gone and the signal worked for a while, so it was alright.

I was close though. Man, I was close.

I don’t need shit in my life. Let me rephrase that. I get annoyed thinking about shit in my life. So I try to get rid of it. So I don’t have to think about it. But then I think about it anyway. And I know that. So this time I’m trying to just face up to it. But it pisses me off no end. I would much rather it was an eternal summer, where I don’t have to think about responsibilities of any kind.

I knew you’d understand.

You can tell Nancy rang tonight, can’t you.

JUST STOP THINKING ABOUT IT.

Yes, I know dear. It’s very difficult sometimes, is all.

But you know that.

That’s why we’re friends.

So yeah, weekends. I had a nice weekend last weekend. I ate a lot of lobster. Don’t say a word, Dirk. And don’t look hurt either. It doesn’t suit a man with the gift of communicating with bears.

I’d love to see you try.

Speaking of lobster, Simon sent me Toasted Heretic toons on the iPod mail the other day. It was really cool. It was like that scene in Harry Potter when the owl delivers him a letter for the first time. It was this big grey smiley envelope. With stuff in it. And at the bottom, a little file that said Present for Queenie. And I let out a little scream when I saw what it was. I didn’t think for a second.

I hope some of you go to the gig. I’d love to be there.

Say hello to Julian for me. Tell him I never forgot him.

Unlike many others I could mention. If I could remember them.

I should go to bed.

I’m very tired.

I’ve been making patterns with leaves on paper.

Night night.

Queenie

xx