This Thursday I visited my local Irish pub for some scotch. Ironic, that, but it had to be done. Just wasn’t a Guinness night, you know. I spent part of the night engaged in an activity I like to call “walking in the snow”, considering how spring is almost on the cusp of being here. Mississauga was actually beautiful - and it’s not a city that should be described in such terms.

Working is stressful, I realize thatso much more when we have a holidy like Good Friday.

And thank God for Jesus, eh? It just popped into my head that Good Friday is actually about something other that a bunch of chocolate and children running wild and then being given meds to calm them down.

So here I am, typing up a blog post from my friend Nick’s house. We fed homeless people tonight, and there were about seven hundred thousand of them there, since the end of the month always seems to be the busy time. Something about welfare cheques running out or some such nonsense. We ran out of soup, ran out to the store and made spaghetti. It was a good time, and reminded me again of how much stuff I have, and how stupid my ridiculous troubles actually are compared to just surviving.

Tomorrow, it’s off to Jon’s church to do some good old fashioned drumming. Yeah.

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