I’m drinking good beer in a sunlit window at Free Times Cafe where I used to hang out with my band in the ’80s. When I arrived the speakers were playing an obscure (to me) Serbian singer doing everything from traditional love songs to hard rock, but now we’re on to Steve Perry – this is the personal playlist of one of the waiters since the restaurant’s computer isn’t working. Said waiter is of Serbian descent, sings heavy metal and runs the open mic on Mondays…
What’s your favourite Journey song he asks me. I don’t know titles, I say, what’s yours? Wheel in the Sky, he says. It’s coming up soon… And it does – …I don’t know where I’ll be tomorrow…
I’ve brought only one pair of glasses, no ipod with my playlist, no map or plan and only remembered a toothbrush by mistake. The objective has been met though: I am not home.
It’s been wonderful to shut down my internal industrial engines and just… be.
Day 3 morning finds me at Carrot Common on the Danforth, drinking a big fat latte. I’m ready now to hit the road for home, eager to get back to work. Priorities have had a chance to readjust, the list of goals is clearer, and I can actually see that what needs to happen next is not just blind, mulish work, but a few concrete, specific things.
Not a problem. I love work.
And it’s been great to stop for a breather.