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Saturday, November 01, 2003
On Sunday I realized that Vancouver is too small for me. I have traversed the city so many times and I have run out of places to see.
All week, since this flash of realization, I lost my gentle demeanour, and Sailor Mouth is resurrected. I thought I had no more vitriolic denunciation in me. I thought I was forever changed into the cheerful optimist.
Last night some good-looking guy smiled sheepishly at me for being such a knuckleheaded driver but I responded with curses. Tonight, when that idiot at Hastings and Sperling tried to jump in front of my car, I renamed him and his kin all in four-letter words.
Two weeks ago, when that woman simultaneously reading a book and driving didn't notice she almost killed me, a pedestrian on the sidewalk with a big yellow umbrella, I just laughed it off. No Donald Duck repsonse.
What happened to the gentle me? At what point in the last week did I revert to my former self? Is this permanent? Karen says I am feisty and back to normal. But I like the relaxed version of me.
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