Everyone needs a direction, everyone needs a vision. For cops: going home after a night shift cruising down Crowchild with the sun coming up wired because you've got a loaded gun on your belt. Nenshi = social media.

Full disclosure: I worked for the Canadian Census this summer. I'll begin by saying this was the most leisure conducive job I've ever had. I worked 3-4 hours a day for six weeks walking around Sunnyside and took hour long coffee breaks at Vendome. I didn't start work before 1 PM ever. I loved it because I got paid by the hour, not by the completed census form, and nobody on my lists was ever home (my hours were 1-4 PM). Nobody even lived in these places. The rare time someone answered the door my face would go from breezy content to utter dismay.

I just mention this because a lot of my co-workers gave me the strong impression that the census was the most exciting thing they had ever been part of and that five year intervals was a damn tragedy for this epic good time they were having. Plus they took it SERIOUS. I met a fat man on the street who was also an ennumerator. He sweated out his red faced essence with the pompous strut of an overfed Dutch berger. Thinking I had chanced upon a kindred soul, I called out to him. Without breaking stride he informed me that he still had twenty minutes before census regulation stated that he cease doing house calls and had no time to chat. Anyway, he had a vision and to judge from his walk a capitalised Purpose.

This is a confessional post. Occasionally in the last hours of an afternoon spent reading and baiting the neighbour's dog a gentleman of leisure forgets himself, and starts to fear that a pompous fat man with a questionnaire in the crook of his arm is filling out little boxes under his name. Direction: none. Vision: somewhat worse than average. This is why I tried to ennumerate very sympathetically, usually by going round when few could possibly be home. Although leisure and self-reflection are easy companions you've got to keep your own criteria, distinct from the pompous fat man. Palm Breezy: check. Pants: check (phew). Lady: coming over later. Book: water damaged from the bath, still readable.

LEISURE UPDATE

At my house there are three bedrooms, two upstairs and one down. The downstairs one is next to the kitchen. The upstaires ones are steamy hot. Since I generally sleep in a few hours later than most people in my house I moved upstairs.