Day 167.3 / Wandering I...

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I'm back in Ottawa. 

We drove in this morning to reclaim the stuff we had to dump when we took the train the other day. If you don't recall the story, or perhaps haven't read the entry (considerably more likely) we showed up at the train station with a bag about 20 pounds overweight and were forced to leave a bunch of stuff with Jeannette's mother. 

It was 5am and I was not happy. 

I'm not sure why there's a new restriction on the weight of a carry on for a ground based mode of transporation. You'd think trains would want bags to be as heavy as possible, what with their tendancy to careen off the tracks. I'm no scientist but that certainly makes sense to me. 

Although, now that I think about it, perhaps train employees finally just got fed up with airline employees getting all the power and attention and decided it was time to add their own asinine rules and regulations to make our travel lives as annoying as possible. As a result your carry on luggage… for a train.. can no longer exceed 40 pounds. 

In any event, long story short, the train blows, we had to come back to Ottawa today, and it's all Jeannette's fault.

Don't worry, I'm too tired to read this entry to her and she's too tired to read it herself.  

So we're back in the nations frozen capital. Until Monday. And then we drive back to Toronto. Unless something else comes up and I'm forced to take a dogsled to Nunavut. I wouldn't put it past the universe to throw such a curve ball into my life at this point. Not at all.  

To any snipers or assassins out there currently trying to end my existence let me take this opportunity to apologozie for the hassle my constant movement must be causing in your life. I'm a difficult man to pin down lately. And with all the money you're spending on your own travel I'm sure you're blowing through whatever money you've been paid to do the deed. 

Perhaps you should take the holiday off and just wait until I buy my house. It'll be much easier than trying to keep up with the shifting geographical position of my life. It's just a suggestion, but you do what you want. I merely point out that as soon as we settle down in a house of our own my daily routing will run like clock work. It'll be more predictable than the steady stream of shitty comments coming out of Kanye West's mouth. 

Although I warn you now, I am going to the shooting range tomorrow. And I may be getting the Bourne box set for Christmas. So you might have a harder time taking me out in the new year. There's also that survivalist course I'll be taking… so I don't know, it's your call. Your the professional after all. 

Do your worst. 

That little rant went entirely too long. Just want you to know I'm aware of it. 

I'm very tired again guys. I'm trying hard to get this writing business all back on track but today was unavoidable; which is a shame. The last couple of days I've gotten a lot of work done and I would have much prefered to have been able to continue the practice of writing this thing earlier in the day. But as I said, this morning it couldn't be helped. I didn't sleep much at all last night and as a result I had to sleep this morning right up until the moment we had to leave. 

It's my own fault. We went to the Keg last night with some friends and I had a coffee after dinner. Ordinarily a coffee doesn't affect me that much but last night was certainly different. We went to bed at a reasonable hour, but with the party going on above us and the general noise of the city outside, coupled with the fact I had a mug full of caffeine shooting through my veins like heroine, I was left laying there all night staring at the ceiling. 

"Try to sleep," Jeannette said to me at one point. I never understood this idea. Sleep is the opposite of trying. Sleep is what happens in the absence of trying. No one can try to sleep!! It's foolishness!

At one point, a few hours later, she rolled over and opened her eyes and I was just laying there, wide awake, trying to use some of the memory techniques to remember some of the terms from an article I was reading about frontotemporal dimensia. I got about 30 seconds into describing the technique I used to remember the scientific jargon when she cut me off with a very lovely and patient, "I love you, but you need to stop talking. I need sleep." 

And with that she turned over and left me to my insomnia. 

Fair enough. Can't fault her on that point. It was about 3 in the morning after all. 

It worked though guys! The memory techniques are pretty great. Anterior midcingulate cortex anyone? Salience network much? I'm telling you, I'm locking this shit in and it works. The trick is to just run your brain through the process of the technique over and over and over again, consciously, until you do it unconsciously and automatically.

Take tonight at dinner for instance. Someone mentioned the fact a bowl was incredibly hot and someone else said, "Yeah, dumbass, that's why it's on a trevat." I immediatley pictured Alex Trebeck holding something really hot and boom! Donzo. Trebat. I may have spelled that incorrectly but I at least now know the term. 

_______Moments later________ 

Just looked it up to see if I was right. It's a trevat. Close enough. I made the adjustment in my mind by adding a cravat to Alex Trebeck's wardrobe as he holds the hot plate. It only enhances the visual image by making him look far more dapper and I now have zero chance of forgetting what that thing is called. 

Okay, enough of this nonsense. I have a certain Chapter 2 of a book to write tonight and it's already 11:30pm.  

Night monkeys. 

I'll check in with you tomorrow morning, from somewhere in the forests of Alaska no doubt - mp

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