Just took a pill of Claritin, which, besides helping for the sneezing, itching, and secreting, ahem, is probably the cause of my sudden vertigo.
Was previously downtown with absolutely no plan at all. Just that, seeing that there wasn't a cloud in the sky (at least when I woke up), and that the temperature was decent for wearing shorts, I decided to take the next bus downtown-bound.
I had a short break at the swimming pool, swam less than ten lengths in a medley of styles (including the N00b's Breaststroke) b/c I've already been for longer stretches this week. Have never felt as healthy and physically strong in my whole life.
Then I visited my grandma, who hasn't been visited by a family member for about a month (since we really started renovating). She usually cooks for my father for lunch, but he is now spending all his free times worrying about how the house should be rebuilt. I helped granny with the census, chatted with her, listened to her laugh out loud like never does (I guess she has this same shroud of occasional shyness/antisocial-people-hating I have, but can be a very lively talkative person when un-inhibited) and had her take out her photo album with black and white snapshots of a different era (woaw do you preserve some things down the generations, like a gaze).
Then took the 55 down to Chinatown, but revised myself (as I wouldn't be making rice dumplings tonight, or be asked to get take-out char siu at that time) and got off at Place-des-Arts and took the metro for Guy-Concordia. Got a plate of pan-fried bai cai jiaozi at the usual place. There was a feature in the Mirror on the Asian Heritage Month across Canada, and was reminded about the Pony Up! CD launch next Thursday. Then had a craving for something sweet - and w/o a decent ice cream parlour in sight, went for a bag of dried apricot from the nuts counter.
Bus'ed back home, food coma, or general allergies-induced bleh feeling hitting at about Dorval, and I peacefully slept all the way to Beaconsfield, while reading La Passion des Nomades (where at that point, the male character married his deceased father's mistress, and is in total denial that she didn't kill him or that he isn't just a wussy bum).
It rained twice (I ran to grandma's on the first occasion, and was on the bus on the next) and the weather was chilly in t-shirt after the first rain. May's weather in Montreal is treacherous as always. I hope that June nights will keep at least some warmth. It's going to be a very long summer, with all my relatives and friends gone to other cities - a freshly-renovated house for all of tomorrow's parties that will never be (or only when the summer is on its decline, as always).
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