Between the me and the bank lies the hardest trial of my week.
I broke up with Film Boy on Sunday night. His grandmother died on Monday. I fixed my DVD player Monday night. I took him back Tuesday, early morning. I spent $100 on DVDs Tuesday afternoon. The health inspector visited the Shop just as I got into work Wednesday morning. A dear friend kept me up in a nightmare-like stupor while he tripped Wednesday night-Thursday morning. I may have slept two of these nights.
But all of those weird, sad, frightening, heart-wrenching, irritating ways to spend a week so far held nothing in the difficulties that lay on Queen west as I walked to Scotiabank.
The store was open today.
[Omitted for coherence]
At last I deposited the entire cheque and continued on my way to the subway and home. Still wearing my 6-year-old orthopaedic shoes.
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