Something about always landing on my feet?

So the last couple of days have been interesting. After a night in Guantanamo I went to the front desk and discovered they were fresh out of rooms for Friday night, as well as the usual hostel I stay at. Whilst digesting this on the way to work I checked my bank account to discover that I had not been paid and still had that good old 38 cents in my account. So now, no money and no place to live.

Thankfully a couple of paychecks turned up at work that morning and I was able to cash one of them at a Bank of Montreal (only a $5 fee which I thought was alright) so I ticked one of the boxes. I messaged one of my friends who said I could probably stay on their floor, but after consulting the landlady this no longer became on option. What problem she had with me and only 3 other people sleeping on her living room floor I'll never know. So once I left work I was seriously contemplating a night under the stars, especially since my friendly local Comfort Inn offered me a room for $160. I called one hostel who told me they'd called most of the others for someone else and they were all full. I needed a slice of luck.

And one came along.

On the way to Templeton's Diner I went into the HI Central even though I'd been told they were full and asked with the lowest expectation possible if they were full. And amazingly they were not, they had 2 beds left. Once I'd calmed down and stopped telling the guy behind the desk I loved him I paid my way and headed off into the sunset for some yam soup and a grilled cheese sandwich.

And the hostel was amazing. Air conditioned rooms, an ensuite bathroom, free breakfast, it had the lot. I actually had to use a blanket since the room was getting chilly during the night, as opposed to the last place which had no air conditioning, no fan, windows that opened a tiny bit (not that you'd want them open, there was a club downstairs) and 7 other people in there. Sweating. Even the breakfast at the HI was good, although I understood nothing of the conversation the German people were having at my table (apart from the words Ferris Bueller).

So yeah, good times. I'm moving into the flat later today and should be able to buy a lappy in a couple of weeks. And it turns out that Monday was not BC day, that's the coming Monday. This is what happens when you read the wrong rota at work.