Dust Bowl

Not often, but occasionally, I really hate my apartment and my thoughtless landlord. Like on the occasions when I come home after a long day of work and painkillers, only to discover that WITHOUT WARNING, the landlord has sent his feckless handyman, Allen, over to belt sand the entire hallway. There are clouds of dust in the hall, up the stairs, and on the landing. The two workers wearing full face masks look at me and say “hold your breath!” There is dust. EVERYWHERE. In my apartment. It’s come through the cracks in the walls and the doors, and has settled on the floor, the bookshelves, my clothes, my everything. And it’s not good, clean sawdust either. No. It’s the nasty accumulated dirt of decades of filthy shoes treading the stairs coming in off of Spadina. It’s old varnish and lacquer and stain. It’s fine like powder and breathing it in, I can feel it coating my nose, throat and lungs.

Yesterday, I was forced to leave my own home, because the air was completely and utterly unbreathable.

So I slept over in Weston again. But despite the horrible incentive to do it, the evening was really nice (as they always are, Chez Justin). JVL and I went to Shoppers and bought me a package of extra-strength Lactaid (a good gesture, alas, ineffectual), and then pigged out on dairy products. We ate some extremely smelly Camembert, and I introduced him to my beloved Smoked Applewood Cheddar, and then we had his cousin Ms. Emily over to the house for a cup of tea and a chat, and to share our cornucopia of tomatoes and apples and baguette and cheeses and tasty, tasty vegan chocolate mousse from Whole Foods. She squealed with delight when she saw that we’d bought her a box of Cheddar Bunnies; they are yummy vegetarian organic crackers with the Official Rabbit Seal of Approval. Or at least, that’s what the box claims.

I read book two of Jeff Smith’s Bone and did a little sketching while JVL cleaned the house in preparation for his vacation. I don’t think I’ve really grasped that he’s leaving for Thailand TOMORROW. It’s going to be a little weird, given that I’ve spent every night for the past week and a half with him. Looking on the bright side, I can catch up with my friends (sorry, !), work on my inking, and read read read to my little heart’s content.

Provided nobody else invades my home with power tools, rendering the air unbreathable and all surfaces filthy. Grrr! Where am I supposed to sleep tonight?!?!?

Breathless

Stayed over at JVL’s last night, and took the 6:08am GoTrain to Union Station this morning in order to get to work on time. Was carrying massive bag of laundry and also backpack.

Halfway down the street, heading towards Weston train station, heard clanging of bells and saw lowering of railway barriers. Heart thumping, it dawned on me that if I didn’t catch the train there was NO other way for me to make it to work even REMOTELY close to on time. Also, I don’t know how to get to the subway from the train station, so would have to go back to house and wake Justin up AGAIN. No good.

Panicked. Started running. Fast. Really fast.

Carrying heavy bags. Stitch in side, breathing getting sharp and shallow, can’t stop running. Train is in station. Punch card, slide on just as doors are closing behind me. Train starts to pull away, and I’ve dropped my bags and unzipped my coat. Can’t. Catch. Breath. Wheezing, throat closing, lungs feel like they have shrunk to the size of a clenched fist, tight and rattling.

This is the beginning of a fifteen minute asthma attack. They usually don’t hit me until the summer months, May at the earliest, and I haven’t had one since September of last year, when it was muggy and smoggy and I was biking all over the city. I no longer carry my inhaler with me. Maybe this is another adopted medical condition from JVL, like his communicable hypoglycemia?

Anyway, I had to go home to get my inhaler, and was having difficulty breathing by the time I got to Spadina as well. But I didn’t take a puff because I have to go under general anaesthetic tomorrow morning, and I’m not sure how thrilled the surgeon is going to be if I have salbutamol floating around in my system. So my coughing has lessened but I’m worried about my crappy malfunctioning respiratory system.