welcome to the jungle.
As the automatic glass doors closed behind me, I realized I would not be able to navigate metrotown without my roommate. Metrotown has over 300 stores and is the second largest mall in Canada. It's a big ass of a mall.
I usually never dare to set foot into the fabric laden jungle without my trusty roommate. She is my guide on what to wear, what not to wear, where to go, what to eat (although I can always find the washroom on my own).
Today, I had no such guidance.
My roommate is in Bangkok, Thailand, and I am up shit creek without a paddle.
if you start to feel dizzy in the mall, find the closest food court, it's probably dehydration and too much variety.
After a fruitless expedition for dress pants and shoes (i've set my mind on hushpuppies, the name sold me), I decided to call it quits and take a breather in the foodcourt.
however, the foodcourt itself is a quite a daunting arena in metrotown. i don't know if i would call it variety, but there were lots of stores ranging from greasy fast food to greasy fast food with an asian name.
As I began my slow death from dehydration, I realized that I remembered to pack a bottle of water. My trusty Nalgene, oh how I love thee. So I spent the rest of my time sipping on my bottle and planning out my life goals in the food court of metrotown. I have 2 pages that outline my life for the next 8 months. It mostly consists of work and finishing up my last two courses at SFU, but I am actually quite excited to be earning some disposable income.
This is quite an accomplishment for someone with a recently realized fear of success. Some how, the garbled noise created by the crowd created an atmosphere that allowed me to concentrate. This atmosphere was surprisingly comforting, and a pleasant change from television silenced monotony in my highrise apartment.
I think I understand why my friend goes to Walmart to meditate. I still don't know if the babies and underpaid staff of Walmart could give me the solace needed for contemplation of my life to come, but they sure have some cheap shit there don't they.
I usually never dare to set foot into the fabric laden jungle without my trusty roommate. She is my guide on what to wear, what not to wear, where to go, what to eat (although I can always find the washroom on my own).
Today, I had no such guidance.
My roommate is in Bangkok, Thailand, and I am up shit creek without a paddle.
if you start to feel dizzy in the mall, find the closest food court, it's probably dehydration and too much variety.
After a fruitless expedition for dress pants and shoes (i've set my mind on hushpuppies, the name sold me), I decided to call it quits and take a breather in the foodcourt.
however, the foodcourt itself is a quite a daunting arena in metrotown. i don't know if i would call it variety, but there were lots of stores ranging from greasy fast food to greasy fast food with an asian name.
As I began my slow death from dehydration, I realized that I remembered to pack a bottle of water. My trusty Nalgene, oh how I love thee. So I spent the rest of my time sipping on my bottle and planning out my life goals in the food court of metrotown. I have 2 pages that outline my life for the next 8 months. It mostly consists of work and finishing up my last two courses at SFU, but I am actually quite excited to be earning some disposable income.
This is quite an accomplishment for someone with a recently realized fear of success. Some how, the garbled noise created by the crowd created an atmosphere that allowed me to concentrate. This atmosphere was surprisingly comforting, and a pleasant change from television silenced monotony in my highrise apartment.
I think I understand why my friend goes to Walmart to meditate. I still don't know if the babies and underpaid staff of Walmart could give me the solace needed for contemplation of my life to come, but they sure have some cheap shit there don't they.
