Bleh.

So. I was going to catch the bus to Fredericton at 7:30am. I was at the bus station in plenty of time.

The bus station is in the same building as the train station. Now, I don't know about you folks--but every other bus station and train station I've EVER been to has a parking lot in which travellers may leave their cars. Well, not in Halifax, people. Freaking backwater hick village.

Anyway. There isn't anyplace even remotely close where one can pay to leave one's vehicle for a few days. The Superstore next door vehemently posts that they will tow anyone who is not actively shopping *right this moment*. I even called the store manager to see if arrangements could be made. They cannot. I understand this, it just pisses me off.

What if I were taking the train someplace farther away than the 7 hour trip to Fredericton? (okay, so it's really only 5.5, but so what?! I'm making a point here!)

So I came home, presumably to get a couple more hours of sleep before going back for the 12:45 bus out of Nowhereville. I cleaned my kitchen. I scrubbed my bathroom. I changed my sheets and folded the abandoned laundry. Then I tried to change the settings on my Blog. That was an exercise in futility...but whatever. At least I tried. The side bar is still filled with navel-gazing twaddle, but you're just going to have to suck it up for another 5 months.

And WOW. I'm always amazed by how quickly time passes when you're not looking. I can't comprehend that I've had this blog for 5 months now. It amazes me that I've been in Halifax for over 8 months. That's far longer than I was in Rothesay, but it only feels like yesterday.

I must state for the record that I love my job. I'm back to the point where I really enjoy going to work. I like the people that I work with. I find the challenges taxing, but not gruelling. I look forward to each day. It's been a long time since I felt this way. Almost two years, to be exact. I'm glad to have me back.

For a long time (the entire period that I was in Saint John) I didn't like my job. I was unhappy with my life (not my relationship, but the rest of it). I was miserable because I had previously been happy. I had always been a person who woke up happy to be alive. Every day was fresh and new "with no mistakes in it"*. Then I took a job that I hated, in a city that I loathed, and everything fell to pieces.

So it's been a long itme coming, this contentment. And that's not to say that things are ideal, they're far from it. I need to find $3000 soon. I need to fix the car before winter. I need to clean up this dump of an apartment. I need to figure out what I'm going to do with my life. I need a haircut. I need a lot of things. But the list of things that I don't need is longer than the list of things that I do.

I'm happy here. I'm happy with what I'm doing. I'd be happier if I had a new title and was driving a free pickup truck with free gas, but hey...you can't have everything. (I'd also be happy if I had a million dollars, a dog, a husband that loved me and treated me the way I deserve to be treated, and a house--since we're on the wishing-boat.)

Today, I will wear my Superman t-shirt. It always makes me laugh. Mainly because everyone ALWAYS has something to say about it. I figure that a shirt that sparks conversation must be worth its weight in bubblegum.

Hmm...I started out ranting (which was reasonable given the circumstances and my intense lack of sleep) and ended up being happy and content. Guess it's not such a crappy day after all. But beware! Things could change at any moment!

I've become quite the t-shirt girl. I was noticing this last night when I was trying to pack for my trip. I packed 4 t-shirts. This is a bit odd for me, as i didn't realize I had 4 t-shirts that weren't vile freebies from work. It just so happens that I actually own LOTS of t-shirts that are not vile freebies from work. Who'da thunk it?

If only I were a jeans girl--I have only one pair of jeans for wearing outside the house. I have no immediate legal means of obtaining more, so these jeans will be experiencing a lot of social activity this weekend. I hope that the rest of me experiences a lot of social activity this weekend. Knowing Heather as I do, I don't anticipate it. Although, she's managed to meet a boy and we're planning to go hiking on Sunday, so perhaps things will fall into place after all.

I'm looking forward to drinking copious amounts tomorrow evening. I'm not sure how that fits into Heather's plans, but it figures prominently in mine.

She's so little (petite-whatever) that it doesn't take a whole lot of alcohol to knock her on her ass. This can be a problem when we partake together. One tastes like more to me, and it tastes like a nap to her. If I encourage her to beverage and she doesn't do it quickly enough, she falls asleep. If I don't encourage her, she just doesn't and then she's a VERY shy stick-in-the-mud. I'm not into pressuring people, so I hope she's in a mood to let loose. We shall see.

The best part of this weekend, is that I will get to go to Fred's Pancake House. It is possibly the best breakfast restaurant I've been to ever. (Next to Cora's but that's an entirely different kind of place.) Fred's has the Trucker's Breakfast--with more food than you can shake a stick at, and 4 kinds of meat...for $6.50.

Luke and I used to go there all the time, and the old-lady waitresses used to fuss over how skinny he was(is). I used to eat my fill of pancakes, toast and hashbrowns, with a side of crispy bacon, coffee, and milk, for $4.25. I'm so excited about Fred's. If you're in Fredericton, it's worth the wait for a table.But they only take cash--so go prepared.

I must go, repack my bag with less crap, and head downtown to find a parking place for the Festiva.

That's it for now. I'll be back next week with another fun and exciting entry. *snicker* Well, it'll be exciting if my bus trip is anything like they usually are. Crazy people and the handicapped love me. They seek me out. Particularly when I'm on public transit. Which is why I rarely take it. Yes, I'm phobic about the creeps I meet on the bus. That, and the fact that the bus usually smells bad (as do the people on it).

Happy Thanksgiving.