Badge of Honour

It’s strange how some things in life are a badge of honour that represent a victory at that time, that later are the bar or base level.

I’m moving. That in itself is a victory. I have lived in my apartment for many years. It’s cheap and in a great neighbourhood. That’s been my badge of honour. Mostly the cheap part. Cool, hip, in-the-know.
Ok, it has inconsistent heat in the winter. And mice in the walls. Did I mention the pigeons in the ceiling – very “The Crow”. I can sit on the couch and watch the world go by. Literally. I look out over Spadina Ave. – a busy street for shopping and restaurants, and late night, post party Chinese food.

Maybe it’s time for a new badge of honour. The ride of cool is finished. Do I really need to get on again?