Once upon a bright and sunny day in 2018, Yann and I found ourselves before the door of a residential building in Arles-sur-Tech, France. I had the key — previously hidden behind the green shutters of the window to the right —in my hand. I had yet to meet the person to whom this lodging belonged. This stranger had hung the black Reynaud-Bray tote I’d abandoned at the Toulouse-Blagnac airport a few days earlier off the doorknob to make it easy for Yann and me to know which place to rob.
Keeping a To Do journal continues to do wonders for my productivity. It differs from a day planner in that I don’t set a specific day to complete tasks. I write down what I intend to get done over my 3-day weekend. Whatever I don’t cross off gets bumped to the following list. I make two to three lists a week.
I did not expect the Tour de Victoria to make it into my To Do journal.
Continue reading “It’s not a race.”The nurse pointed to the monitor, which showed my blood pressure readings, and explained that my numbers were high.
High, but accurate, given the week I was having. I was at the clinic to get a doctor to fill out yet another ICBC injury report, unrelated to last year’s accident.
Continue reading “The doors Tesla drivers have opened.”Yikes. It’s been almost three weeks since my last post.
I’ve been busy shedding layers. Now that it’s warm enough to forego arm/leg warmers, toe covers, basically everything in the above photo, cycling is all I want to do.
So, I will recap the last three weeks in digestible chunks.
Continue reading “Shedding layers.”It’s been two days since my dental work, and I’ve been following the aftercare instructions, which advise against smoking. Instead, I’ve been enjoying an evening highs fuelled by cannabis beverages. It gives me the best kind of high but at a higher cost.
I have stitches halfway down the middle of the roof of my mouth. After pushing it deeper, the dentist did a bone graft to reinforce the implant.
Before I got the implant, I asked a friend who I knew had them how the procedure went for them. What they said was reassuring, if not vague (given their implant happened over 20 years ago).
To anyone who has stumbled upon this post and wants to know how much it sucks to get dental implants:
Continue reading “A stabby week.”
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