This afternoon is a lovely one in Toronto. I'm in the backyard, sitting at the patio table, wearing pyjamas, enjoying the breeze, and, most importantly, not up to my elbows in meat product. My mother is beside me, reading the list of Princess Margaret Lottery winners. . .and guess what! I still don't own a car! My dad did win a pair of binoculars though. But that is far from exciting. Maybe I'll use them to spy on the woman who won the Aston Martin V12 Vanquish. I imagine she'll have to sell it; I don't think many people could afford the insurance rates that car would be subject to.
Last night, Taylor and I walked from work to Max Milk to Becker's to home because nobody seems to value the Classic Coke slushie anymore. Vanilla Coke has stolen the hearts and sensibilities of my neighbourhood's variety store owners. So we went back to my house, borrowed my parents' barge (a 1996 Buick LeSabre) and drove to the SevenEleven at Pape and Queen for our frosted treats. On the way there we picked up Miranda who, by the end of our little sojourn, was none too pleased. Poor girl just wanted her burgers and boyfriend and home.
There were three things on my agenda for today:

• sleeping late -- didn't really happen due to my burgeoning cold, and the clopping around that permeates the paper thin floor separating my basement bedroom from the kitchen, bathroom, and hallway above.
  
• CD shopping -- not sure if this will happen due to, again, my cold, and the motivation that this has sucked out of me.
  
• quit work -- ah yes, a recurring item on my to-do lists of late. . .The past few days at work have been made possible by the "Today is the last" mantra. Now with my cold (such a crutch I make of this slight malady) I feel that perhaps I will actually make the call today. Afterall, I certainly won't be able to go in tomorrow if I'm still sneezing.

Bah! Miranda just called. She wants me to go with her to hand in a resume at Blockbuster. I've told her that Blockbuster is Bad, but no, she's fine with its big boxyness and censorship. But I'll go with her because that way she'll come with me to find some CDs. First I'll call in to work to quit though. I'll tell Ernie that I'm sick and probably won't be able to come in tomorrow, and that I won't be in ever again. So that's not exactly real notice, but in this instance I'll suspend certain ethical beliefs and just be done with it. WOw. Maybe I'll actually end up two for three at the end of the day. Hur. Rah.