Yesterday I bought lunch for JVL and I, which we snarfed down in the office at the Snail. Assorted Meats Chow Mein ($6.50) and General Chicken ($7) from the Peter Street Deli. Less than $20 for a massive meal for two, and it was utterly delicious. For Torontonians looking for good Chinese food, I recommend. Yum.
Last night came by to see the new digs, and she and I had some celebratory new-condo apples and grapes and cheese (FYI, if you’ve ever tried and liked Port Salut, a handy tidbit of information is that that is only a brand name – the cheese itself is known as Saint-Paulin, and you can ask for it generically at any good cheese shop) and wine (for medicinal purposes only) and looked over the facilities and have decided that we need to make good use of the gym in my building to start a workout date together once a week. I think this is an excellent plan.
After she scooted home, JVL and I stayed downtown at the condo again, and this time we had a guest – his cousin Emily, who looked a little scared of the shiny Ikea newness of the place. I keep forgetting the difference in home experiences between my partner and his family and I: my childhood was spent moving from newly-built home to newly-built home, so I’m completely acclimatized to living in freshly framed and drywalled, white-primed rooms with no soul or history. I’ve never had what you could call a “family homestead” or “roots”. Our houses have never had history or significance beyond what we’ve created during our (usually brief) tenures there. I can only imagine the shock for JVL, who has chosen to live in a house that has sheltered his family for three generations now. A place with no memories or associations must be damned weird.
And now, back to work. Oh! Oh! Wait! The same coworker who explored the apogee of willful ignorance on February 7th regarding the name & date of Holocaust Memorial Day had another stellar comment for me this morning.
I asked him, during our morning meeting, where he was at with some materials I need for a binder that is due tomorrow. He said they weren’t in the approvals process, and I left it at that, waiting until after the meeting to explore the matter in more detail.
When I did this, asking where, exactly, the products were (had he started writing them? had he thought about them at all? did he remember where and who he was?) he told me he was ‘working on them’ and then gave me a bitching out about asking him about products he had clearly not begun to develop THE DAY BEFORE THEY ARE DUE during the morning meeting in front of management, because it might raise questions about why it wasn’t done yet and then ASK him where the hell it was.
EXCUSE ME?!?! I don’t think I need to comment on the appalling lack of personal responsibility for one’s actions exhibited by that comment. There endeth my work-rant for today.
Reading: Finished ‘Brideshead’ last night. Still on book one of ‘Ring and the Book’. Haven’t found thesis yet. Grr.
