It’s a beautiful day for staying indoors.

I texted Dad yesterday, wishing him a Happy Dad’s Day. He responded by telling me how he spent his weekend.

I told him I was spending mine at home sick. To keep things light, I also mentioned that I was able to entertain myself a bit by playing video games with Yann.

“Sounds like you’re feeling better, that’s back to work for you!”

That was his takeaway? Because I was able to wiggle my thumbs for a bit while laying on the couch, I am well enough to be back on my feet for an 8-hour shift repairing bikes?

Also, it was my weekend. Yann and I had planned an overnight cycling trip to one of the Gulf Islands, which would have been significantly more enjoyable than what I ended up doing. Instead, I became one with the couch and watched the entire 6th season of RuPaul’s Drag Race, napped, lost to Yann at Gran Turismo 6 repeatedly, napped some more, and pee every fifteen minutes as a result of drinking plenty of fluids.

My mental well-being has been subpar for a while longer. People I work with are still getting to know me; it’s too soon for them to be exposed to sad Laura. When I show up for my bike shop shifts, I have to worry about fucking up and making a bad impression as I’m a comparatively inexperienced mechanic. I also have to act like I’m not feeling left out.

People marvel at the fact that I spent four years working alongside Francophones in Montréal, but I cannot follow group conversations in English any better than I can in French. What makes a difference is whether my co-workers make an effort to include me. I’ve tried to instigate one-on-one conversations, but it doesn’t seem as if they’ve picked up on my allure. Now I’ve turned into a joyless goblin and hope nobody picks up on that.

CoolMilhouse

I AM SO BUMMED. HELP.

Last weekend was also supposed to involve cycling around one of the Gulf Islands, but that fell through too. I was to make it to the Swartz Bay ferry terminal solo and meet up with a friend and a group of strangers on Galiano Island where we’d then ride to the other end of the island. However, halfway to the ferry terminal, I received a text from this friend saying he was not likely to make it on the ferry he planned on catching.

I could have gone anyway, but it was raining, and I was unprepared to do this ride alone. I didn’t even know if I’d be able to use my phone once I reached Galiano as mobile phone coverage is spotty in the Gulf Islands.

MISSION ABORTED.

Unlike this weekend, last weekend wasn’t a total loss. Yann and I drove up to Botanical Beach which is only 115km from Victoria but makes you feel as if you’ve been transported to another planet.