A Day In The Life Of -Or- How I Know Travelling Alone Is Finally Getting To Me -Or- Simple Pleasures

This morning got off to a better start than yesterday simply because the alarm went off properly and I was awake when I had to be awake (compared to yesterday when I awoke to 7:02AM glaring red in my eyes, the time when I was supposed to be in my car and driving away to Deep River instead of being mostly naked under the bedsheets in my hotel room). So I had time to hit the snooze button a couple times, do my eye make up a little more carefully and grab a quick breakfast before I headed out to chilly winds which did not turn to crusty frost on my windshields like it did yesterday morning.

Being earlier than yesterday, however, did not necessarily mean that I was "on time" so while I was hoping for a leisurely morning drive, I ended up speeding past a school bus that had stopped to pick up a student. Note to everyone: DO NOT DO THIS. When school buses stop, they flash their red lights and the STOP sign pops out the side because THEY WANT YOU TO STOP. If you do not stop (like I did not) you will get honked at (like I did) and you run the risk of KILLING A SMALL CHILD who is on their way to learn and educate themselves. I felt guilty the rest of the day. Well, that is until I ran a red light and then I felt guilty about that instead. I deeply apologize to Renfrew County for all the infringements on traffic laws that I have committed within the last 48 hours that I have been here. If you see a small, dark blue car going 30 to 40 over the speed limit, that's me too. Sorry. *hangs head in shame*

It's only because I was running late. And then I forgot to veer right towards the highway and ended up going north when I should have been going south. And then! then! my directions told me to take Hwy 5 when there was no Hwy 5 and then I turned onto Hwy 9 and prayed to goodness that it would take me somewhere right. Hwy 9 ended 7kms later. So I sat at this four-way intersection having to choose between going back up Hwy 9, going onto Hwy 8 or onto the 60 East or 60 West. I did what any professional Recruitment Officer would do: I called the school and asked for help. "Hi, I'm coming in for a presentation and I'm not sure where I am - where the 60 meets the 8 and the 9. How do I get to your school from here?"

"Is it a 4-way stop with a store on the corner?"

"Yes, there's a gas station."

"Oh, perfect! You're just down the road from us! Just go up the hill and you'll see us!"

"Up the hill? Well... I'm sitting at the end of Hwy 9, so should I turn onto the 8, or the 60 East or 60 West?"

"Hwy 9? The 60? Well, I don't think we're on the 60... just go up the hill honey, it's right there, you can't miss us."

"But which way onto the hill? Left, right?"

"Just go straight, straight up the hill."

"Straight up the hill. Okay, so I don't need to turn?"

"There's a store at the corner, you said, right?"

"Well, yes, it's a gas station."

"Okay, good. Now just go straight up the hill."

"But, I- okay! Hopefully I'll see you soon!" *insert cheery smile*

I looked around for a hill. Turned right and went straight. Straight up the hill. Just like she said. About a kilometre later I was back on the phone with the same lady.

"Hi there. I don't think I went up the right hill. I mean, I looked for one, but to be honest, all the roads look pretty flat."

"Did you go up the hill, honey?"

"Well, yes, but I don't see the school, so should I turn back? I'm on the 60 West now. Are you on the 60 East? Or the 8?"

"Oh dear, I don't know... There's a store at the corner right? And it's a 4-way stop? You should really just go up the hill and you'll see us!"

"OH MY G- Okay! I'll try this again and hopefully I'll see you soooon!"

WHAT FUCKING HILL?? WHAT'S WITH THE FUCKING STORE?? IT'S A GAS STATION FOR FUCK'S SAKE!! FUCK THE GODDAMNED HIILLL!!

I had to get it out of my system. I swore pretty much the entire way until I found the school. It was on Hwy 8. There was a little hill.

Also, sometime during the day I found myself talking to myself in the car. With a British accent. I think I was running through scenarios in my head and what I would do if I got pulled over. If I pretended I was a foreigner, would they let me go because of my cute accent? It worked once in a bar. Should I go for the refined, educated Londoner, or the rough, street smart Northerner, or the Kate Winslet? Personally, I liked the Kate Winslet one the best because it had sass. Seriously people: talking to myself, alone in the car, with THREE different accents. I need help.

I think this accent business was before the whole wrap-in-shoe incident. I managed to gather enough time between schools to stop in at a cafe I had passed by yesterday and figured I'd get a chai to go or something. But the friendly behind the counter guy enticed me to stay for a quick lunch, so I had a soup and half a sweet chili Thai wrap before taking the other half on the road. While speeding, I came to either a red light or a stop sign (can't remember) and didn't time it well enough which led me to step on the brakes HARD - things in the backseat were everywhere and my wrap? it tumbled out of it's plastic box home and landed in one of the shoes I have piled on the passenger side of the car (a girl needs selection - keeping a collection in the car and changing them before stepping out is easier than packing three pairs every week). I looked over mournfully. Sweet chili sauce and beans were in my blue tweed pumps. "My shoe. My wrap is sitting in my shoe. My WRAP is in MY SHOE. Great. It's in my shoe. Fucking hell." I couldn't reach it from where I was so the damn thing just sat in my shoe the whole way to my school. Now my car has the slightest hint of sweet chili scent to it.

After my last school visit I tried to be all hardcore and go for a little hike/walk in the woods nearby. A guidance counsellor had done this trail before and told me that it would take about an hour to finish. On my way there I admit I felt like wimping out - the winds had picked up and I didn't have a hat, and the sun wasn't really out so it might get dark sooner... and I realized that I had forgot to pack my casual shirts that day, but there was no stopping me. I wanted to be Hardcore Miss Outdoorsy Independent. I parked and put my camping pants over my new grey slacks and pulled my sweatshirt over my blouse. I didn't have socks, so I kicked off my kitten heels and just wore my stockings with my running shoes. I wrapped my scarf around extra carefully.

Off I went to explore a little trail that took me to a river and a dam. Okay, not bad. This is nice... I told myself. I wondered about wild animals. I saw signs for deer crossings earlier. I heard there were bears around here, up north-ish. But on I went and I found another trail. Goody. Crunch crunch went the leaves under my feet. I wondered if the noise was disturbing anything. Gosh, this would be far more enjoyable with someone else. Someone who actually knew something about the great outdoors. I told myself to suck it up and just keep going. An hour isn't that long, really. The sun will still be up. For the most part. And then I realized I had no flashlight, no compass, no protective weapon of any kind. Just my clothes and my key in my pocket. Keep going you pansy, don't wimp out on me now. If you need to, run a little and you'll finish the trail faster. Remember the guy who fought a bear with a pen? You can do that, just stab the thing in the eye with your car key. On I went. And then I heard two distinct KNOCK KNOCK sounds to my right. I froze, took one look in the general direction of the sound, turned on my heels and bolted out of there like a bat outta hell.

Panting in the driver's seat, I looked at my watch. It had been 15 minutes. Okay, okay, so Miss Hardcore Outdoorsy Independent didn't fare too well in the woods. WHAT. I didn't know the area and there was no sun and the wind was so cold it gave me a headache AND next week is hunting week which means the woods must be chock-full of animals at this point. So the sound could have been a woodpecker, I get it. But it also could have been the antlers of a big moose knocking against a tree as a warning to me that if I get any closer it'll charge and I've heard stories about those things when they charge - they can kill you, alright. So, would I rather save my flimsy pride and say that I went down fighting a wild moose (or bear) with nothing but my car key, or just make sure that I actually stay alive by going for a little jog OUT of the woods? I think we all know what's best for me in this case.

Worn out from my exertions, I went shopping. I kid - I just had a $7 credit note that needed to be used and I didn't find anything anyway. I went for a walk downtown in search of a tea room and followed signs that took me to the Recess Cafe, a tiny little thing tucked into the corner of a community centre. And there I found the peace that I had been looking for all day. Every city, every little town, no matter how bland it may seem has a place just like this, a haven. I took a walk around and settled in a red chair by the fireplace which warmed my cookie so that all the chocolate chips became gooey. I flipped through nature books and marveled at the world while sipping on hot chocolate. I chatted with the waitress (who turned out to be a student at one of the schools I'm visiting tomorrow). I watched little girls in floofy dresses come in with their mothers. I imagined my own cafe, if I'm ever to own one, and how I would make it just so, so it would allow those who walked in, regardless of whatever it was they were feeling that day (in my case: homicidal road rage), to feel exactly like I did then: simply content.

Somehow, between that lovely experience and making it into my hotel room, I managed to drip cold chai latte from this afternoon all over my pants, shoes and coat, have the wind blow so hard that I could hardly walk from my car to the hotel front doors, and when I made it to my bathroom mirror I found myself looking like a harassed wild turkey.

And that was my day. How was yours?
8:01 pm