K, so it’s the first weekend of Stampede and I can see the fireworks waay off in the distance as they explode over Stampede Park. They’re pretty far away—I can’t hear them—but the view from my apartment is pretty cool.
It’s super hot during the day—the kind of heat that causes the clouds to bubble up at the end of the day, and threaten to drop a pound or two of hail onto your garden, or worse, the hood of your car.
It’s that heat that’s just unbearable—the kind that drags you down and makes you grateful for a respite in an air-conditioned restaurant or pub or club.
It was just like this a year ago, when I was in the middle of a life transition.