It's been a while since I was this tired. Since I felt like I was run off my feet. Since a Tuesday felt like a friday. But it does.
Driving back from the Joel Plaskett show at the Grad Club in Kingston last night, I was tired. I mean, it was 3 or so am. But at the same time, I felt lighter, relieved, more alive. I can't remember the last time I went somewhere and stayed out late because I could, despite having to work the next morning, despite everyday 'responsibility'. Clearly, it needs to happen more often.
Ben & Al were protesting today, while I went to work and played soccer. Part of me wanted to be there, to experience the crowds, the adrenaline, the meaning, firsthand. Part of me remained passive, though. Perhaps I'm not hardcore enough - I'm not entirely convinced that protesting really makes a difference or achieves some sort of means. Maybe I'm too much of a hard-core realist. Or a pessimist. I'm curious to see the photographic results of todays events, though. Both took their cameras, one digital, one traditional. I'll offer up a link to ben's when he puts them online.
Post-protest&soccer we collected ourselves for beer and mediterranean food at the Glebe Cafe, where we met some other protesters, and were treated to complementary appetizers because of the boys pre-dinner activities.
In other news, Cleo goes back tomorrow. A bit bittersweet. She's found a home with a friend of mine, which will surely be a good and loving one. But I'll miss her. I'll miss the shoulder-toting requirement (even though she's nearly too big), and miss her climbing the curtains to hang out on the rod, and the way she crawls up in between us on the covers to she can coo herself softly to sleep in the collective warmth of two instead of the usual one.
Anyhow, enough updates. I need to get my sore, zombie-like, voice-losing self into bed.
To tide you over, happy december! Make snowflakes and be merry.