It was a long day. I cycled to work, early (just want to get protocols over and done with but there were fifty), under threatening dark grey clouds and over the bumpy roadworks on Queens Park Circle. Only one car swerved toward the kerb today. I really should buy a helmet. At five I raced out the door, feeling guilty as I left behind the resident, staff and other fellow (though I had announced earlier in the day I had to leave on time as we had dinner plans; next week I’ll stay back so Hassan can leave on time). I got the last bike from outside the Power building and cycled home, the newly cold air burning my lungs. We showered, changed, and went downstairs to Bec & Alastair’s to harass them, and walk all over their wooden floors with our shoes.
Ur and Izz had been to a fancy pants restaurant North of us a few months ago and recommended the food, so we planned to go. As we’ve all been travelling over the last two months we chose the first week we were all back in the same city, and I secured a booking for a Thursday, which happened to be the day after Ur’s birthday, so he got a candle on a plate to blow out. We caught the train up from Bloor; it took twice as long as I’d expected (I forgot how the stations are spaced out further from downtown). Pete & Royden met us at York Mills. The Metser-Friedmans were already seated, as they were on time. The waitperson was good; he read our table’s 50% Aussie irreverent no-bullshit attitude and was suitably informal. The serving plates in unison made me giggle; we’ve been to other fancy pants restaurants in Chicago and New York and Melbourne and, although we had a good night, the food and presentation and little things (like don’t reach across my face to get to my wine glass) were nowhere near a match and the attempt at showiness didn’t make up for it.
Another late night, another skipped gym this morning to catch up on sleep. Tonight: our fourth TIFF film and then games night at Amy and Alon’s!