August 15th, 2009
Today was worm class and I am now the proud mother of half a pound of red wigglers. I will set up their bin in a little while and start feeding the little guys my kitchen refuse so they can start making me compost. But I can’t start on that yet because I am plum worn out. I had a late night last night and this morning the sick bird escaped my clutches during medicine administration and I spent a harrowing fifteen minutes chasing him around the bathroom. I think it is safe to say we both hated it, though only one of us nearly died of terror and exertion. I am telling you, I could hear that bird gasping from across the room. Which is a tiny room, okay, but the bird is also tiny – he fits easily in my curled palm. So you should not be able to hear his lungs working. But I could! So there is that.
Worm class was fun even though the group work sucked. (Doesn’t group work always suck?) The leader of my group was an idiot who couldn’t follow instructions and I, personally, really like to follow instructions. So we were not destined to become best friends. It wasn’t even clear that we were destined to leave the class without bloodshed but in the end I kept a lid on it and no one was harmed. But really… when the teacher tells you to move the straw aside and bury the food scraps at the bottom of the bin in one corner, and your response is to sprinkle the food all over the top of the straw, I think it really is appropriate to mentally sort you into the “idiot” category. I wish her worms well but don’t have high hopes.
Also, I walked to class because I like to walk and I am, as you know, constantly fretting about my level of fatness. But when burdened with a 53L worm bin plus acccessories, it was not practical to walk home. And now I will indulge in a favourite Vancouver activity: bitching about the busses. It took me about 70 minutes to walk to class – and 90 to bus home. That just shouldn’t happen. I also shouldn’t have to stand next to the chatty bigmouth at the bus stop but life is not fair. I now know more about the Translink dispute resolution system than I ever thought I would (did you know priority is for seniors and wheelchairs, and women with baby strollers can be asked to get off the bus if their stroller is preventing one of the former categories from boarding the bus? It’s true, the bigmouth said so!).
So now I am working myself up the energy to walk from here (the dining room) to there (the bathroom) where I will lie in the tub and read my book and fantasize about how nice it would be if someone else made dinner tonight. Considering I am unemployed and Husband is working something like 90 hours this week my odds are not good, but as my beloved grandmother used to say, it’s healthy to want.