Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Small Town

I've had my job for just under eight months and I have officially reached the level of small-town stardom where I can't leave this building without running into someone who I know.

The post office is a nightmare. Starbucks is dangerous. I stick to the drive-through at Tim Horton's.  

People I know through my job are everywhere. And I generally run into them at inopportune times. Such as when I was picking up Chinese food after a harrowing day a few weeks ago; I wanted food and to forget my day at work. Instead I get of our regulars, standing just ahead of me in line.

Today, I stopped at the grocery story for caramels and evaporated milk. It was the middle of a Wednesday afternoon: I saw no fewer than three people I know in the seven minutes I spent shopping for two items. One of them was my grandmother.    

So, I've been singing the praises of a shorter commute but maybe I won't live right in town. 

For the sake of sanity, anonymity and occasionally going out with a hangover, chipped nails and a messy ponytail. 


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