The Lemonade Goes on a Trip




How do? I spent last night running my Dungeons and Dragons game. The heroes were sent by a whiny teenager to deliver a love letter to a mysterious singer in the nearby swamp. The heroes begrudgingly accepted this assignment, and therein lay the fun.



Immediately after the game, I had a short shift at Shopper's Drug Mart. It was simple enough. There was no new product, so our job was to bring stuff from the back of the store to the front of the store. Not exactly rocket science. The only downside was the very long walk through wind and snow that occured after the shift. Damn the bus. Damn it.


Today, I was planning to do some laundry and clean up my room a bit, but I got a call from Blockbuster. Apprently, I returned "24" to the wrong Blockbuster location. They asked that I pick it up and bring it to the correct location, otherwise they would have to charge me a hundred and ten dollars for the series. It's at times like these that I realize how completely the public transit system has failed us. It took me over three hours and four bus tickets to get to one Blockbuster, pick up the DVDs, make my way to another Blockbuster, then come home. This made me a sad panda. And again I curse the Bus Gods.

Yesterday, I purchased a 12-pack of sparkling lemonade for 99 cents at the Loblaws (this purchase was alluded to in yesterday's title), and now one of the cans is posing in front of the cemetary that flanked one of the many bus stops of today's trip.