The Magic Numbers

I've been counting. I've been reciting the numbers, clinging to them, mouthing them to keep myself sane. Maybe it's because I'm exhausted. Or maybe it's because they're ludicrous to even me at this point. 

Since I left Alberta on August 6, I've had 2 days off work. (The last day I took off was August 26; nearly a month ago.) 

With roughly 5 contracts per week, I have been working an average of 10 to 12 hours per day. 

Today marks my 29th day of work in a row. 

And on day 25, I determined that 24 days of straight work in a row is my limit. I feel fine, but I'm making mistakes. I've broken glass doors, ripped my dress, forgotten to eat and misread train tickets. I've nearly missed deadlines, I've forgotten directions, and I've been self-condemned to solo late night Game of Thrones marathons and the subsequent night terrors. I haven't done laundry or bought groceries. I've been running to prevent myself from crying. (One is a better source of endorphins than the other.) I've been to Vancouver, back to Toronto again and now I'm on my way to Montréal.

But it's okay, because it's near the end and now I'm focusing on my favourite numbers of all:

I only have 1 more Go Global Expo to attend.

I only have 1 more article to write.

In 2 hours I'll be in Montréal.

In 7 days I get a day off. A month off, actually.

In 13 days I'll meet Mike in Tokyo.

And in 17 days, I will be in Thailand drinking buckets and this will all seem like someone else's life.

And then there's the other numbers: the unpaid invoices and my bank account balance. If working 12-hour days for two months straight affords me the chance to take a month off and travel with my best friend, I'll take it. 

This is the life that I always wanted--up until day 25 anyway.

Reincarnated

As the closing credits for Reincarnated's world premiere began to roll, I breathed out a sigh of contentment.

"Well, I feel like that kind of answers our question," I said to Nina.

"Does it, though?" she asked, skeptical.

The question is the one that has been plaguing us ever since April 20, when Snoop Dogg announced the dates of his North American tour: why the hell would Snoop Dogg visit the likes of Cold Lake, Alberta? (And further, why would he visit the Cold Lake Recycling Centre while there?)

"We could ask him," Nina suggested.

"It's not really related to the movie," I said, sheepish.

Nina, however, was not so shy. As her hand shot up, I felt my heart pounding in my chest. The moderator pointed to her and then Snoop Lion was looking directly at us, only four rows away.

"On your most recent tour, why did you choose to include small towns such as Cold Lake, Alberta and Beaumont, Texas? Did it have to do with this reincarnation?"

Snoop answered without hesitation. The tour destinations had been chosen deliberately, by him. He believes that it's important to perform in smaller communities because places like Cold Lake are often forgotten--and because so few other artists will go there.

"I want to play for the little people, too. I don't want to forget about the little people. I wanna play in jukebox joints for 30 people. I don't forget where I came from. And for those people, I want to bring happiness to them and their towns because they matter too."

It was so honest and earnest that I nearly cried tears of joy. It was totally worth the $40 we paid to attend the gala screening just to hear that response--and to witness Nina speak directly to Snoop.

(Oh, and the documentary was pretty good too.)

We've got a lot to be glad for.

If I could attend a hootenanny every Friday night for the rest of my life, I'd die happy.