Quebec City really IS cool. Meh.

After lazily sleeping in (post-double-overtime last night), and then falling asleep some more, I decided to go see the city. My plan was to walk all the way around the old city wall, which I figured would take a few hours. Well, it looks bigger on the map than it really is. It only took me half an hour to go about halfway, even with some dilly-dallying at the Citadel (built way back when we were the plucky underdogs, and this was an imperialist outpost). This whole place is gorgeous, of course. I found that the wall became less exciting after it stopped overlooking the river (which was way cool), so I zig-zagged through the old town for a while. Got some shish-something from a Lebanese take-out, then came back.

Oh. Saw some American tourists talking extremely loudly and in each other’s faces (I know they were Americans; I heard them say “about”). I thought, no wonder people find us off-putting. Then I  passed a group of local folks, talking extremely loudly and getting in each other’s faces in French. It made me smile.

The other thing that made me smile was walking through a stationery store. It was very comforting. It was like a bridge over troubled water. A bridge of pens, pencils and niftily-constructed notebooks.

After an hour or so, I realized I really wasn’t enjoying the walk very much. My right knee feels like it’s going to kill me, and the weather is cold, overcast, and freezingly windy. But mostly it’s that I’m just generally dysthymic. Oh, wait. Go back to the overcast part. That’s probably important. Anyway, nothing is very enjoyable, so I might as well come back here and work. As always, there’s a mountain of it to be done.
Maybe there will be something good on TV. Or maybe my sleep cycle is (as always) screwed up, and I’ll get in a spunky mood at 11 pm.

Going back home tomorrow. Can’t say I’m too sad about that.