A Typical Tuesday

Today was a typical Tuesday...slated for chores.

I woke late and decided that before I started my chores, I would go for a haircut. It seemed to be the perfect morning, rainy and cool. My intuition was right on as I was the only customer in the store and so didn't have to wait.

I was served by a new gal, one who didn't seem to know what to do, even after I explained it to her. So I talked her through it and came away mostly unscathed. She kept running the clippers into my ears, until I quipped, "Are my ears getting in the way?" That seemed to focus her, although the end result left a lot to be desired.

After this I went for a blood pressure test at the drug store and sure enough it was up again...haircut stress-related no doubt.

I went home to finish my chores, make some coffee, do laundry, check email. The usual. I planned a mid-afternoon movie at the Paramount, but by the time I got there I realized that I had better not sit through a thriller, but walk off some of my stress.

My stress is not unrelated to the decision I made last week.

I stopped taking my blood pressure meds, as they don't seem to be agreeing with me. I braced myself for the dizziness, the headache, and the upset stomach I was sure would follow. It did, along with about a 15 point jump in the BP levels but I promised to give myself a week to see what would happen. Astra Zeneca labs haven't kept me alive most of my life, and I didn't expect to keel over once I stopped.

The end result is that my BP is about 12-15 points higher than it was on the meds...but even on meds it never came down to normal.

So I walked over to the food court in the Pacific Mall and ordered a fresh apple/carrot/beet juice zinger with a jolt of ginger. I walked with that through the downtown core to Caper's to restock my walnut supply, which along with banana and orange juice is my usual breakfast menu.

Once home I was quite tired and so lay down for a nap. While I napped the temperature dropped and it poured rain.

I woke about 6 p.m. and decided to go out shopping for a bite to eat. I have been making loud noises at work lately to some of my team mates about craving a hot Montreal-style corned beef on rye sandwich, the kind that I used to be able to get in Winnipeg.

I passed a small European deli and did a u-turn a few paces past it as the words Montreal-Style settled into my conscious mind. There it was...a chance to relive my dream and satisfy my hunger.

I walked in and ordered, but to my dismay they told me there was no rye bread, and asked if I would settle for multigrain. I said no thanks, as this was not my vision of a Montreal style sandwich, but the owner said "No problem," and pointed to a fresh loaf of rye that was marked for sale and they cut that to prepare my sandwich.

I immediately realized this was not going to be a dream realized, as they kept asking me how to prepare it. Did I want lettuce, cucumber, tomato...did I want the meat hot or cold? They didn't even include a pickle.

This was like my haircut revisited, and I had to talk them through it. The end result as with the haircut was far from perfect, but it was a passable sandwich, and because I felt guilty that they had to cut a fresh loaf for me, I bought the rest of the loaf to take home.

It was a worthy purchase, as I found when I passed a young woman standing on Davie with the cardboard sign...no food, no money...no job.

The expression of delight on her face when I handed her the loaf was palpable and made up for any shortfalls in my day.

"Good food", she exclaimed in a tone of voice that said everything that needed to be said.

I then headed down to the rainwashed seawall, to watch the vestiges of golden sunset and misty clouds over the rippling waters of the Bay, breathing in the cool, fresh air.