We went Out Of The House tonight. After skiing Saturday I slept for 11 hours. Sunday was a blur on call, not busy but I spent the day busy tidying up other work stuff. Yesterday was the same. Today was more of the same. There’s a pattern. We saw the trailer for A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night last week and thought, “That looks interesting!”. It was, for the first hour. The second hour I spent wondering when the film would end, because it was paced like a Kubrick film: painfully slow. There were many beautifully composed black and white shots. Endless almost choreographed scenes. But, sitting in a crowded tiny cinema on Carlton St, with my puffy down jacket perched on my lap and no popcorn (why did we chose not to get popcorn!?) I didn’t have the stamina to remain engaged for the entire film. Outside, after the film I saw ramen at the Japanese place next door and convinced Daniel I needed noodles. He’d made smashed potatoes and baked chicken for dinner (the best ever) so now I’m stuffed. We walked home up Church St, kicking blocks of ice and marvelling at how they shattered, slowly, into smaller fragments. It’s only -7ºC.