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Pony: chemical head diva
9.7.2004
I left work today just before six and biked to Kensigton market in a fog from the chemical fumes. Went to buy vegetables and fish. Yes, fish. I cooked my first fish on Saturday night after a lifetime of aversion to the scaley creatures. Broiled talapia. It was...very tasty. Next I want to try sweet marinades and coconut curry with lime leaves and trout.
But what am I saying. Some days you are just off. And if you are off for whatever chemical or emotional or astrological or barometeric reasons, and you go to Kensington Market to run errands, you will not manage to get anything done. You will dither. You will coo at a friend's new baby and accept an invitation to drink a glass of jack daniels on a balcony while watching small-timers sell drugs in the park.
I have a blasting headache from breathing the fumes on my floor today. I am not sure if it was the agent they used to put out fires, or if it is the alcohol they were using to clean the computers they had taken apart in the lunchroom, but I breathed it in all day and at 11pm it is still throbbing. I napped for an hour, I have plied myself with tylenol, advil, chicken curry, kinderegg chocolate, peppermint tea and deep breaths. But nothing seems to work. So Chris and I rented Diva, one of my favourite films of all time that he has never seen. La wally and the cool blue new wave light of the story might just distract me back to myself.
