See? Worthy.

I've only ever looked at the ocean and felt actual emotion twice. This morning was incident number two. The first was about 4 or 5 months ago, when I was driving with Hoskins through the whacky twists of CBS. We rounded this bend and came upon a sweeping, panoramic view of the water, and at that moment I felt somewhat overcome with pride, which I had never felt before, and I decided at that moment that I had been in Banff for too long. I also decided at that point (I think) that I want to raise a family on the East Coast.
As I was vacating Water Street this morning, after another overnight shift (these, by the way, are likely going to kill me if they continue. I have a cold that I'm nursing and complaining about now. I don't get colds. For someone as sickly looking as I am, I have a surprisingly apt immune system), I decided to scale Signal Hill (in my car) and check out the view. So I did. Even at eight a.m. there were many tourists. I hate tourists. I locked my car because I figured that it would be my luck to do something as poignant as this, and have my iPod stolen by some dickhead visitor in the process, as I'm finding myself. That's when I would get looted.
Anyway, with the Buick fitfully secured, I scaled a little knoll off the side of the parking lot, where there was an itty bitty pool of water. Then I looked at the much larger pool of the Atlantic. It was ever-so-clear and crystal, and the sun shimmered on the water, and I just felt as though I didn't need to leave anytime soon. I felt thoroughly and satisfactorily introspective. I decided that perhaps eight dollars an hour was worth it, I mentally made a note to myself to bring my next girl-type friend/victim to this knoll to make out sometime, and then I drove home.