I lost my gloves.
I’m tempted to think I haven’t, because they’re both gone, but they’re not at Lisa’s and they’re not at work, which means they’re probably riding around and around on a TTC streetcar. I imagine them holding each other.
I haven’t been wearing them much this trip because it’s so warm. Of course, the natural tendency is to jump to the conclusion that the warmth is freakish and meaningful, but maybe it’s just warm.
It’s a stark contrast to my last December visit, though. I remember one night last year, stepping over snowbanks and piles of slush with inch-big, wet snowflakes hitting me in the face as I walked to my favourite restaurant to meet my editor (only to discover that it was closed). This morning as I walked to work, the sky was a bright pastel blaze behind the overexposed city skyline.
Big things are happening at work, and in the evenings I’m visiting with friends (friends are good; conversation is good).
