I’m too tired to write a real post. I haven’t slept since Wednesday, and I’m mortified about my actions involving cheap beer, a man, and text messaging, but here’s a funny photo. I snapped it in Eastern Passage after watching another live taping of “This Hour Has 22 Minutes.”
I’ve been lingering around Halifax hoping to score a job interview for a sweet position I’m stoked about, but it’s autumn and I only packed Capri pants and sandals. I bought shoes, and I still need a jacket. I’m enjoying the attention I’ve been receiving from members of the opposite sex, and have been chatting with a cute army dude all week whom I met downtown. I’ve been in and out of cafes, bars, and restaurants, having a blast with some new friends. But until a business gets up and running, I need cash and experience. I need some stability. I spent two years paying off $7k of student debt, only to watch it all start coming undone.
But soon, if things don’t work out, it’s time to go home. I really need some pants.