And Sunday wasn't bad- warmer in the sun, and an abortive trip down to Mt Sinai (the hospital)'s Indigo (the bookstore) led me to an unexpected bistro round the corner where I had pate and Eggs Benedict and more wine than I should have.
But then the mug came back, leading to the classic Toronto fall dilemma of 'too cold for AC too warm for heat' but isn't there anything to remove the clamminess from clothes and sheets and skin? To say nothing of complaining knees and aching elbows.
It's dark at 8 which is about the time I get out of acupuncture, down in pot-holed track-riddled fat-assed-tourist-bus Chinatown, and I don't want to bike at that hour, especially if there's a wind from the north, and the streetcars are unreliable- going, always; coming, invariably, one always comes as I get to the corner and the light turns red so I can't cross to it. (Am perfectly happy to bike home from the stop before the subway because I bike that route twice daily and know where the holes are. But Spadina and Dundas- no. Just no.)
I have a book token from Indigo for a princely $25 and a book I want to buy, but the Indigos that are supposed to have a copy of it don't, the one that has nine copies is in the unreachable outlet at Yonge and Eglinton, and for some unfathomable reason Indigo Online suddenly has no provision for using book tokens. Yes, I could buy it on the card, but it's the principle of the thing-- because any time I go into Indigo there's nothing I want to buy.
Toronto has run out of codeine. It's on back order everywhere except, Daycare Hugh says, some place out in Scarberia where he gets his. Said he'd pick me up some but has probably forgotten. My doctor says two extra-strength Tylenol works better than one codeine and Tylenol so that's what I've been taking. On balance I'd say it works nearly as well, and truth to tell, I'm not unhappy about dropping the habit of decades. Tylenol will trash my liver but hey! anything's better than an opioid, right? (Do not understand the opioid crisis. People are overdosing and killing themselves? Surely better than the usual route of alcohol poisoning: at least you aren't taking other people with you.)
But there are times in muggy York here when I'd really like a codeine to iron out the aches.
So I am autumn melancholy and annoyed by it, because I don't have that many autumns left to be melancholy in. Shall have a bath in the Algemarin I discovered in an independent pharmacy, because all the chains seem to have given up on bath oil except for really stinky artificial house brands.