It's been a while since I've reported on the day-to-day. About time.
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So, Tuesday evening I get a call from Rob. I can tell he's really off. Not too much longer, the reason:
"I don't quite know how to say this. I've never had to tell anyone this before."
I know it's bad.
"My dad's dead."
Wow. I tell him to call me if he needs anything. He's at Sandra's. Can't be on the phone. I let him go, but call back when I get to Anita's.
"I just borrowed a bike. If you need anything, or want me around, I can be there in 15 minutes, just call."
He doesn't call back right away, so I go into go into a movie at the Bloor with Anita, keeping my phone on vibrate - just in case. It vibrates 10 minutes into the film, and I run into the lobby, and it's Rob, and after a few seconds of hesitation/deliberation, I dismiss any thoughts of staying and zoom down Markham street. The next hours are passed in some combination of attempts to be the best friend the situation (we being a bit of an odd trio: crestfallen Rob and his current lover/partner/applylabelhere and me) calls for. Meaning maker of tea, offerer of words/hugs/energy/comfortable silence, etc.
It was a wreck diving accident, what was to be the last dive of the season. Rob Sr. was 51. Fucked up. (
http://www.thestar.com/NASApp/cs/ContentServer?pagename=thestar/Layout/Article_Type1&call_pageid=971358637177&c=Article&cid=1097531409090)
As Rob says, though, "How many people get to die doing the thing they love most?"
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In general, people keep asking what I am doing, given the whole not gainfully employed situation. Funny thing is, I don't have a standard answer I can give, beyond:
1) "attempt to find work" - which includes
*hours in front of the computer trying not to get distracted with MSN and to focus on searching and applying for actual positions
*getting out for good ol' fashioned in-person networking
*the occasional interview
*volunteering (not always self-interested, but these days, there's always the hope it may, directly or indirectly, lead to something...)
2) "hang out with people" - which includes
*chilling/cooking/making music/creating/participating in passive entertainment with friends
*attending drum circles
*frequent downtown sleep-overs (so as not to have to trek back up to North York)
*random outings/events like the Harvest Festival or "Art Day/Night at Oriel's place or last minute escapes to Em's cottage or last night's opening of the Faces exhibit for ARCfest Human Rights Festival - which, even though Geoff forgot to put me on the credit list, I did PA for - see
http://www.arcfest.org/)
*family time (especially with my grandmother, whom I am trying to see more of)
*religious gatherings (e.g., high holiday services at Holy Blossom for the first time in like a decade, a late night/early morning post-Trinity-Bellwoods somewhat illegal Sukkah experience behind the Synagogue on St. Andrew St. in Kensington Market, and a "sight-seeing" trip with Kevin to "Catch the Fire" at the Toronto Airport Christian Fellowship, apparently one of the most famous churches in the world, and definitely a close second to San Juan Chamula in Chiapas, Mexico for crazy quasi-Jesus-related experiences.)
*etc. etc.
Today (or, given the post-midnight timing, yesterday) I went to the HRDC building to check out any assistance they might be able to offer should I decide to forget the whole employment thing and become my own boss. You know, self-employment. As in, everyone who contracts you (i.e., potentially anybody) is your boss. Anyways, they are on strike.
Tomorrow (or later today, whichever) I plan to meet with an ex-employer, who not only happens to really like me, but has also been implying there may be work opportunities for me on the horizon. We will see...
On that note, must sleep now, or I will miss the aforementionned meeting. 'Night.
