So we finally got absolutely sick of eatting in (because of SARS) so we went out for dinner at a local joint. I used to be one of the o'favorates of ours since their food was.. hmm.. what's a good translation.. cooked with gusto? Bold flavours? Well. we liked it. But today was something else. Where there were lineups and take-a-number-and-wait, now we are like table #3 out of the 25.. and the dishes are all scaled back.. $14 bucks for the fish dish and we have one slice of fish.. it's not funny. Do I sound like I am bitching? I'm not. I am sad. Obviously they are having a hard time staying afloat and cannot offer the same quality / quantity of food.. And you know what? Since's we've been eating in ever since this all started, we've been having exceptionally value-meals at home all the time, so perhaps our wallets have not readjusted to eating out. Well, we did our bit this week to help the economy.. we'll do it again next week as Torontonians grasp and hold tight what remains of our normalcy.

I haven't been blogging too much lately. Not much to say. As I said before this is supposed to be theraputic and so I guess today I feel like getting some therapy. Dunno.. not too much energy today... or yesterday.. or this whole week. Get up, go to work.. get home.. dog tired.. go to bed.. toss like a green salad.. the radio comes on with Andy Barrie.. get up.. go to work. Work's always fun but the commute is not. And I'm not doing too well in the sleeping department. I think my legs got enough sleep and that's it -- I can still step on the gas but I can't think straight. I stopped at the red light and after 3-potato I drove right through it like it was a stop sign.. Is this a sign of depression? Or that I should just get a new bed and avoid drink water before sleep? Or I should buy an Aston Martin, wake up at 5am every morning, and race down the DVP at 150km/h and hear the tires squeal and the engine roar and my heart pump and my ears ring and the sirens wail and... crap I don't like Aston Martins anyways -- and to tell you the truth I like the Eagle Talon... but whatever.

Talking about cars. Toronto is full of them. Everywhere. Cars. Cars that have 4 or 5 seats but with only the driver in it. Drivers with mugs drinking coffee with only one hand on the wheel. Drivers with one hand holding the mirror and the other with the brush applying rouge on her face while using the pinky finger to hold on to the gear shift. Drivers that holds a novel while speeding down the 404. Fuck even drivers that are trying to eat pancakes the proper way with knives and forks. Don't ask me how he is driving.. perhaps steering with his middle leg.

I always wondered what happens if car makers made cars that fit one person. You know.. Suppose you take a sedan and scale it down to the size of an ATV.. You know.. you and the 4 wheels. Wait.. just like a go-kart. Suppose you can have a car the size of a go-cart, but with regular 15-inch tires, slap on a battery-driven engine, or one equipped with a fuel-cell, forget every amenity except the radio and the a/c.. wow.. my kind of commuter car. (readers - man Vince don't have any idea.. do you?! What an idiot..) Or how about community owned car? Suppose I walk out of my house, and instead of walking to the bus or subway station, I walk to the TCAC (Toronto Comunity Automobile Commission) station, swipe my monthly ticket, and grab the next commuter car? I drive it down to a station close to work, drop it off, and head to work. After work, I pay and pick up another car, drive home.. but on the way I get to drive out of my way to the supermarket and pick up groceries.. Hmm..

Ok now I feel better and can continue my shying away from social life and cocoon in my room pretending to work on Caligo.