A Sunday evening, I had dinner at my parent's house. I drove their pick-up truck back into town at around 10pm. When I got home I realized that this might be the moment I'd been waiting for. I lent my drum kit to a friend to do a month long tour and now they were sitting in his friend's living room. I had to get them from his friend's house to my bandmate's flat. This meant contacting Greg, my pal with the drums, him contacting his friend who was temporarily housing them, him calling me back, me contacting my bandmate to see if he'd be home, and finally, both Greg and I trying to track down a vehicle. A clusterfuck of inconvenience. We'd done this song and dance a few times over the last two weeks to no avail.
September 19th, 2011
I woke at 3am, shot out of bed and rushed to a hotel downtown. Biking through the streets, somewhere between sleep and a waking state (much like the city itself), I saw few pedestrians and even fewer cars. I've taken a job driving for our film festival: spending too much time idling in valet parking, snacking on fruit at the airport and making small talk with delegates. Working ten to twelve hours a day, my life is starting and stopping at all hours.
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