I spent more than 50% of this morning cleaning and tidying the Bloor Street condo where I stayed during TIFF (thanks to old friend Dennis Edell and his wife Leslie), and the other half trying to get going on five or six stories. To little avail, I should add. I took the Bloor train to the end of the line, hopped on the Rocket Express to Pearson Airport and realized when I got to the American Airlines desk at 1:10 pm that I was more than five hours early. I had it in my head that my flight left around 3 pm, and I couldn’t be bothered to double-check. Now I’m working on stories in a lounge — no electrical outlets, of course. Determined to catch up despite feelings of fatigue, depletion.
