Oh but Canada is marvellous. The convenience I tell you! Grocery stores and malls and shops open until the wee hours of 9 p.m., plus the miracle of Sunday shopping. A gym (with a women only section), dental and medical clinics and a hardware store just up the street. And words fail me at the discovery of a Mexican cantina around the corner. Sour cream and salsa for everyone!
I must say, the living location we scouted entirely online (within walking distance to just about everything including my new office) is proving to be a stroke of genius, which means it was all my idea. Compared to moving to a foreign country, it’s just so…well…simple. But it hasn’t been all roses and sunshine.
We’ve run ourselves ragged getting set-up. I haven’t seen much of Victoria yet as I’ve spent most of my time at Home Outfitters. Neil’s work computer is still sitting in customs in Vancouver. I can’t even imagine how frustrating this is for him. The only thing I can use to relate is imagining all my built-for-a-giraffe pants sitting in a warehouse across the bay. At least I’d make the local news—”Middle-aged woman survives dramatic Pacific Ocean swim only to be shot multiple times in a fracas with customs officials. Film at 11.”
At least the new digs are working out well. I live in a veritable den of swank, two toilets and all—the key to avoiding divorce proceedings. Now I had seen it online, that is, most of it. The floor plan showed a large laundry room (as opposed to a washer and dryer crammed in a Swiss bathroom), so of course I’d been dreaming about a return to giant Canadian machines. My number 1 fantasy? Tossing in a duvet, back on the bed in under 2 hours.
So imagine my delight at opening the door to this mess…
A Swedish washer and dryer with half the capacity of my French set. There’s no fluff dryer cycle, you need training at NASA to figure out how much detergent to use and a personal bodybuilder to get the washer door open. Cripes, you could land a jet in the laundry room and this is what they went with. I mean what are the odds of being stuck with tiny euro machines in Victoria, B.C.? Turns out, pretty good. Irony is the theme du jour.
Just goes to show you: you can’t have it all. Out of respect for those around the world who have no fresh water, and those who still have to wash clothes by hand, I’ll keep my big yap shut. I’ll have plenty of time to practice gratitude and compassion all day Saturday and Sunday—I’m washing sheets and towels.
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