Saturday morning.

This morning I have to bus to the theatre to pick up the proof of the program from the director's wife, who likes to micromanage every aspect of her husband's productions. He offered to drop them off here, but she wouldn't stand for that because - get this - it would take too long to explain it to him. I call this guy Jabba the Hut because he's roughly the same size, almost as sleazy, and nearly as smart. He teaches at the university. Says a lot about the state of post-secondary education in Canada.
I wouldn't mind this at all if there wasn't a full-on blizzard happening. Normally I'd take the opportunity to browse the bookstores off Whyte Ave., have a coffee somewhere, stroll around. Instead I have to don the Michelin Man jacket and the big-ass boots and the heavy-duty hat and slog through snowdrifts just to pick up the @#$@* program, then head straight home to dry off. @##$@%&*@%$#*@&%#$.

Update: I took a train and a bus just to avoid all the snow, arrived at the theatre 40 minutes early, totally annoyed that no restaurants would be open for hours. Then, there it was like a mirage in the desert: The farmer's market. I completely forgot it would be open, right next door to the theatre! The tastiest veggie-laden green onion cakes on the planet! And best of all, nobody was there for once. There were no crowds, no lines, and plenty of seats in the little snack area. I ate my onion cake and read Vanity Fair, watching people hawk their pickled carrots and their funky hats and their weird twiggy-crafty thingamajiggies while a string quartet played. Awesome.
The trip home was not as mellow. I stumbled through the snow to Chapters just to make my trip halfway-worthwhile, then stumbled a few more blocks to a bus stop. Buses were delayed so I waited about half an hour.
The second I sat down on the bus, there was a tremendous CRUNCH. The bus had smacked into the bus shelter and knocked it flat. So, I had to get off that bus and walk another few blocks and wait another half hour for another @*&#@ bus.

Mrs. Jabba, BTW, was tremendously proud of the set she designed for this show. She's been bragging it up for weeks. I knew better than to expect a masterpiece, as her last set was basically just some sort of amorphous abstract design painted on the floor. It looked, to me, like a ginormous omelet.
But this set...God, it was bad. It's just a huge yellow sundial. Spongepainted to look kinda grotty. She was pointing out all the intricate details (lines) and exquisite brushwork (splotches) while explaining that one of her assistant painters just isn't talented enough to work on such a set. But the other assistant, she has skills - she can paint lines like you wouldn't believe. I seriously wondered if these "assistants" might be members of a preschool class, but I was polite.