August Looming

August is a month I dread. It signals the end of so much that I love and segues into that period of time most aptly summed up as Can't We Do This Later? I include things like getting my wisdom teeth removed and applying to masters programs into that same file. Trust me, I'll get around to it.

Sitting on a patio in August isn't like sitting on a patio in July, because in July you have the buffer of August. August is like playing hockey with no padding, or walking into a dinner with the in laws without a briefing on which one will never like you.

Each year I only work full-time for 4 months in the summer, and I find by the end of it all I'm thinking is Thank God I don't have to do this for longer. All of a sudden August doesn't look so bad, and hey, neither does September because at least I won't have to work. And so, with the persuasive powers of nostalgia on my side I forget how much school hurts.

And then I'm smack dab in the middle of writing an essay on faith healing in early confederate Canada and I remember August, why did I not savour August?

So to sum up this meandering and somewhat incoherent post, I'm deciding to frame things differently this year. I'm looking at you August, and you know what?

Bring it.

Spare Change

Yesterday on my way to a book signing a saw two homeless people, a woman and a man. The man had a paper cup and was holding it out in front of his body while the woman held back a bit and smoked a cigarette.

They asked a couple for spare change, the couple denied. "Have a nice day," the homeless man said to them.

As I walked by, the homeless man smiled at me and held out the cup. "Any spare change miss?"

Before I could reply the homeless woman stepped up and scolded him, "not her, you idiot!"

"Well, sorry. How am I supposed to know?" he shot back.

I walked away pretty confused, and then perhaps a bit too introspective. How poor do I look?