Life is a pill

Today the sun shone brightly but the air remained chilly. I took advantage of the luminescence to hang laundry and to take a walk this afternoon into town to pick up the Sears Christmas Wish Book at the accomodation (that�s variety store for you non-francophones), only to be told that it would be coming in tomorrow. I looked at my voucher, which said that it was available between August 28 and September 11, looked at the lady again and spluttered, �But�� Apparently Sears never dropped off the bundle of books as promised and after repeated irate telephone calls from the manager is finally bringing a shipment tomorrow. I was, needless to say, disappointed.

However, in order to make the most of my trip, I visited Janice at the used-book store, where I purchased a used book to read on my train trip on Saturday. We chatted about this and that, including the fact that she is my age but has been on the pill for 15 years without a break, and thinks she might be experiencing menopausal symptoms. Fifteen years! Shit! I stopped using the pill for birth control when I was 23 because I was getting one yeast infection after another, and relied on other forms of birth control for years until I finally had my tubal ligation nine years ago. When the gyn�cologist prescribed the pill to control my anemia-causing menstrual flow several years back, I found that it totally destroyed whatever libido I still possessed. I mentioned this to Janice, and she admitted that libido was a problem these days.

Then I stopped at the health-food store and bought a carbonated beverage which I consumed on the bench in front of the library before wending my merry way home. I must tell you that my little town sits on a crossroad where two provincial highways intersect. There has been talk of a by-pass for years, and actually some movement toward that recently, but in the meantime the main traffic light (the only one, except for the one regulating egress from the university) is the site of enormous semis making dangerously wide turns, carrying loads of logs, lumber and Christmas trees, depending on the season. The noise is deafening, the fumes just rude. This is the corner whereat is located The Lion, the pub where people sit out in nice weather drinking beer and enjoying the ambience. Ambience is a euphemism for a constant barrage of traffic, punctuated every now and again by the blare of a truck horn and cars backing up to let a huge tractor trailer make a left-hand turn to head south on Hwy. 143. This is what I observed while I enjoyed my carbonated beverage.

That more or less wraps up my day. Before I go, though, I would like to direct you to darkomen�s brilliant authorship, the People�s Republic of Diaryland Times.

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rom tcklyrpharsn :

Truly, I think that that "ambience" is just about the most wonderful fucking thing in the world. I heart that ambience and I miss it so that my tummy aches. So enjoy it, love.

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