For the first time in a long while, I’m spending the weekend in Montreal. I had planned to head down to Georgeville tomorrow to see the ‘rents, but they’re having a soirée. No problem, haven’t seen them since October anyhow.
Normally, faced with a summer weekend stuck in the city would depress me but, to my amused bemusement, the St-Laurent street sale/fair/flea market is hap-hap-happening this weekend. I’ve grown indifferent to the event over the past few years, being nostalgic for the sales of 10-12 years ago and disliking the cheap glamour that it’s become now, but I’m going to keep my snobbishness in stride, since I really need to pick up stuff for the apartment. As well, it’s probably the best time to pick up those necessary tube and “wool” socks, and also the many different name-brand underwear that probably all come from the same sweatshop in China. These should get me through to the next street sale, when the cycle starts over again.
Fridge note: No, no one came by last night to fix the fridge. I’ve been keeping what little food is in the apartment in a picnic cooler. My cordon bleu abilities are waning.