Out & About #1100 | Never-ending Work Stresses + Suburban Errands

A few weeks ago, I sat on the floor, tears pouring out uncontrollably. Hindsight truly is 20/20: This new job had perturbed my life in ways expected and unexpected. The rhythm of my personal life was overthrown, replaced by tremendous stress and constant anxieties, eventually resulting in sleepless nights, irritated evenings, and using weekends to recover rest wherever possible.

Once again, I found myself trapped and helpless in the corporate world I thought to have escaped by shifting away from consulting. But workplace environments are seldom strictly dictated by the industry and sector; if anyone is to fault, it is the manager.

"Did you tell your manager about your situation?" Many friends and coworkers had prompted.
Indeed, I had. "Of course I did!" I responded, absolutely frustrated. "It goes in one ear and out the other and I receive MORE work on shorter notice."
Beyond repulsively poor communication and the ridiculous absence of organized resources for learning, planning is nonexistent. Weeks ago, I had noted the limited period between Canada Day long weekend and my own three-day holiday request. Despite providing frequent reminders of my upcoming schedule and taking the initiate to align workload and prioritize tasks, I was baffled to receive last-minute work assignments wholly dismissing previous discussions and contradicting the corporate Disconnect from Work policy.

Just because one person does not value their personal life does not automatically mean I should be forced to relinquish mine.

But worst of all is turning a blind eye to all these matters, forcibly sweeping them under the rug to mask incompetency and rectify areas requiring improvement. As far as I am aware, management will be the cause of failure, as well as my eventual departure to regain freedom and respect.

Extra food from celebrations is offered to the general masses, along with freebies intended for sharing. Though my cider was transferred to the fridge and promptly forgotten, it hadn't deterred others from contributing perishable items to the office.

It was as a fellow colleague had declared: "It's not common, but you've started the trend. You are changing the environment!"

​And perhaps I was, since I've successfully managed to befriend others who have sampled my creations and reported back with smiles. Naturally, I don't shy away from free food either.

​While majority of the team ventured off-site for a barbecue lunch, I was confined to my cubicle as a consequence of unrealistic deadlines. That said, mall walks were not omitted; I was entitled to my one-hour unpaid lunch and would proceed as usual.

​A notable observation was the stark slashing of credits required at The Rec Room. Where Pump It Up! was normally 8 credits and Grand Piano Keys 6 credits, nearly all games had been reduced to be 4 credits per play. In conjunction with lower visitor volumes in the earlier half of the week, gameplay had become, admittedly, economic.

Besides relishing in the solo adventure, the mid-day escape also enabled procurement of a Lime Coconut Drink from Starbucks. Similar to DYAM's Green Grape Coconut Bloom, the concoction embraced a tangy, milky composition with the inclusion of a dehydrated slice of lime. Its given price point of $6.61 for a Tall was undeniably steep; complexity-wise, it also paled in comparison to the North York bubble tea spot. Incorporating fresh fruit had definitely contributed to gustatory appeal and textural contrast. I almost couldn't believe it when I began longing for DYAM's rendition within the first few sips!

Visitor volumes at the Dixie location had plummetted since the chaos of pre-Canada Day. Parking was secured with remarkable ease and the corridors within could be navigated without fear of clashing carts.

​The checkout line was also noted to be extremely forgiving, with no more than five people in the queue for the self-checkout aisle. When my browsing partner requested an add-on item even after I had checked out, I was able to swiftly dive back into the store and process payment in under five minutes - what an unthinkable achievement!!

​As supper time drew near, my eyes gravitated in the direction of the Montréal Smoked Meat Sandwich. Meanwhile, my coworker sought out poutine. Although hers had been presented in a biodegradable box, my order had been plainly presented on a paper plate. Double-sided foil could be obtained for wrapping, but the square was hardly enough to cover the entire sandwich. Consequently, we took to consuming the items on site.

All of the tables were taken, but a few standing tables were noted to be vacant. Practically all were soiled, wobbly, or lopsided. Neither of us could consume our orders without fearing structural misalignment, thus opted to perch ourselves at opposite ends of the circular surface.

Expectations were average overall. The shaved meat slices were tasty, but heavily laden with sodium and easily lodged itself in one's teeth. It paired well with the sturdy choice of bread, but nevertheless required a generous squeeze of mustard to unlock full potential. Shockingly juicy was the pickle, for, under the impact of a splinter-inducing wooden fork, its practically exploded over my hand.
A few bites into the meal, water was deemed necessary. Though the hot food counter would not provided complimentary cups, Kirkland-braded bottles could easily be procured at a nearby vending machine at the extraordinarily low price of twenty-five cents! Take note: The machine operated on a cash-only basis.

​I awoke early the next morning, nearly forgetting that it was my day off. From the early hour of 8:20 AM, my schedule would unfold to reveal a doctor's appointment followed by errands upon errands.

​A portion of the trips had resulted from an upcoming July baby birthday bash. Hosting is hardly a challenge for me, but one cannot undermine the efforts required to undertake logistics and related preparations. After acquiring foldable lawn chairs at Home Depot, I proceeded to Dollarama for disposable cups, decorations, and a themed tablecloth.

​Halloween-related displays had somehow already landed at Michaels, three and a half months before the holiday. Instead of the orange-and-black installations, I was more intrigued by the tactile-stimulating stationery.

​Two more stops and I was back at home, enjoying a Sausage Breakfast Sandwich with a side of choy sum.

The complimentary treat could have adopted the form of either a breakfast sandwich or basic beverage. Naturally, the meatiest pairing within a hexagonal Homestyle Biscuit casing was chosen.

In the absence of ketchup (and tartar sauce), the layered creation was disappointing bland, despite the Homestyle Biscuit exceeding expectations. I wasn't particularly fond of the plasticy processed cheese and spiced sausage patty, but the egg was decently tasty.

​An exhaustive three hours later, I had somehow managed a whopping total of 6 stops in 46 km.