Loving the Canada life.

This face says it all. (Don't you love when you act like a 101 year old with your cell phone and end up taking a picture of yourself instead of what's in front of you?).

I am tired, tired, tired. 

The plan begins when I decide to take an uber from my house around 17h00 to the airport on Sunday night. Last Sunday night. 

The day starts as planned, get my nails done (they were long overdue), and then do a few errands, come home and finish packing my suitcase, and at 16h00, start my workout. I am a little compulsive with my pre-airport routine even though it causes me mega stress.

I have to work out RIGHT before leaving and take a shower at the very last minute possible. This always means I’m on the way to my airport sweaty or freezing (depending on how hard my workout was and how hot my shower was), usually brushing my hair, and organizing my purse/carry-on or taking care of some last minute booking. Before I started taking a car to the airport, I drove myself and that was even worse!

So, arrive, check-in, get some water and sit and have ONE drink. ONE DRINK. (Oh, and cold medicine....oops).

Time to board, we arrive at the gate for the airline to tell us that they have reassigned our seats. So I’m no longer sitting next to my coworker, who, let’s be honest, helps me out a lot when it comes to making sure I have all my sh&t with me all of the time. I leave my stuff everywhere. I have since I was a child. I'm not saying that's an excuse, but I am just like that. k? I’m a forgetful person and right now I’m pretty much in PEAK stress with some stuff going on around me. Coworker comes in handy quite often in this area.

So now I’m sitting next to some random guy, who doesn’t smell great. I have all of my stuff all over the place, so I put my passport in the front pocket of the seat in front of me.
And then proceed to fall into the deepest sleep of my life. I haven’t been sleeping soundly at night for oh….two or three months, so I’m tired (working on this in many ways, don’t worry).

We land, I’m groggy. I get my things and get off the airplane, walk 15 steps, stop, remember that I don’t have my passport, and then go back and try to get on the plane. Nope. Against the rules. Not allowed back on this little plane (it’s one of those ones that you climb the stair onto the tarmack. The airline checked and said that they couldn’t find it….but I KNOW IT WAS THERE, but…they wouldn’t let me on, so silly me thought that hey, the cleaning crew will find it and they’ll call me later.

Later – they didn’t find it.
Later – they didn’t call me.
Later – I called the airline, the airport, and twelve other numbers or so to try and get my passport.

It wasn’t found.

I called the consulate to find out what to do – there wasn’t a consulate in the city that I had landed in, but there was one in the city I was flying to late Wednesday night. But no matter which open I took that they offered me, I wasn’t guaranteed a passport or a way out of the US.

However, if you enter into Canada as a Canadian citizen, you don’t need a passport (let’s hope that this statement is really true…I have my doubts).

So, I decided that I would drive to Toronto and then stay there for the weekend, using all of my fidelity points to book a hotel room, since I need to study my ass off anyways.

My brain was fried….and it was only Monday afternoon.

Monday evening, we went to Walmart (cause they are way better in the USA) and I had to buy a few toiletries because I forgot a crapload of stuff. Like A HAIRBRUSH. I had to finger brush my hair Monday morning, so I’m sure I looked smokin’.

We came out of the store; I got into the car, and drove onto the curb, thinking there was nothing there. Thankfully, there was no one around me, so I could just back up and not cause some kind of scene.

Monday night I went to work out, then I called my mom, cried a lot, and then we had supper. 

Crying, tired, and it's only a Monday

Thank god for workouts….I think they are the only thing that is saving me this week….other than the very good nature of my co-worker, who laughs with me instead of at me. Or maybe a bit of both. But they key word is “laugh” instead of “getting so freaking annoyed at me”.

So, we spend the next few days just outside of Philidelphia. I’m trying to act cool and normal….even though I’m exhausted, I’m worried that I don’t have a passport, and I’m….stressed.

We took an hour or so to explore downtown Philly, we seriously never do anything fun while we travel, so it was nice to explore a bit!
Obligatory Philly Cheesesteak. Not my thing but hey, bucket list. 

and...while travelling...if there's a homeless person sitting nearby....why not ask if they'd like a cheesesteak too? You never know what their story is. 

We leave Wednesday night to Detroit and arrive very late. We drive to the Westin and try to check in. It looks like an awesome hotel.

Guess what? We don’t have a reservation there. How is that possible?

I check my records. Oh. That’s right. We booked the BEST WESTERN. Not the Westin.

And the difference between the two, in case you live under a rock and aren’t familiar, is A LOT.

Said co-worker laughs. A lot. And then we drive to our sh&tty hotel.

It’s nearly 23h00, we are tired, I am exhausted, and check-in takes something like 20 minutes…and when I finally arrive to gross, run down, wall-to-wall carpeted hotel room, the key card won’t work. So downstairs I go again.

Finally, I’m in my room, and my co-worker is in the room next to me. And we can literally hear each other walking/breathing/talking…. There is zero privacy. Like we can clearly hear what the other is saying on the phone. Seriously.

I was giddy with laughter because it just seemed like too much.  I felt like I was ten years old and having a sleepover.  

The next morning, my coworker called to tell me he had zero hot water. I am exhausted. I need to get to work, so I go and hide under my covers and I open the adjoining room doors, and then I make sure I’m looking away so that he can sneak into my bathroom to have a shower.

Yes I’m serious.

He had called and tried to get it fixed….or shower in the gym, but nothing seemed to work. Thankfully, we were able to laugh at the situation….but man. What a freaking joke.

This morning? Same routine. I hide under the covers (he says he’s fully covered anyway, but I’m pretty uncomfortable sharing my room with a guy and so I’m giving him extra privacy), he comes in and showers, then leaves, then I get ready.
On the plus side, it’s super easy to let the other know when we’re ready to go because we can talk in a normal volume voice and hear each other perfectly.

What. A freaking. Trip.

So now, if all goes well, I will drop him off at Detroit airport. Drive to Windsor. Cross the border. Fly to Toronto (I decided it was far too much for me to drive to Toronto since I am seriously tired), and then crash hard. Possibly crying tears of joy once I arrive in Canada and once I am at my hotel suite for the weekend.

The ride across the boarder was slightly less dramatic. I had every single boarding pass, hotel receipt so show my way into and around the USA. And they just let me go. Phew. 

I arrived in Windsor, which may be the smallest airport in Canada. I was so looking forward to having a glass (or three) of sparking wine, but I was stuck with this. 
veggies, cheese and fruit, and red wine in a plastic glass. Whatever. it was food and drink. 
I had about three hours to wait in the airport before take off. Didn't realize that I had been rubbing my eyes a lot....

And I fell asleep in a very tiny airplane. Haven't been in one that since since I flew in Mada.

I arrived safe and sound in Toronto. The hotel was beautiful and my suite had a washer and dryer. I wish I was there now. Sleeping.

Saturday (after a very long and active day - my BF also got stranded in Toronto for 24 hours! Thank you Air Canada!), I walked around downtown. It was bumpin!!!

Eaton Center was open until 21h30 so I walked around until my feet were too sore. 

Doesn't it look like these reindeer are getting a little freaky???

So now, I'm back at the office. Day 2 of 5. I'm exhausted. Emotional. Sick of travelling. And kind of wish I had the dog cause honestly, she provides me with lots of laughs but doesn't talk as much as my co-worker. I'm getting a little tired of.....well, talking.

Once I'm back in Montreal....I'll get the new passport. I'll put on some makeup this time so I don't look like a serial killer.

And...hopefully will post later this week regarding some TO adventures.

Life is never boring.