My first Tuesday class never ever finishes in time for me to get lunch before the mealhall closes yet that hasn’t prevented me from trying every single time. Is that not the definition of madness? To repeat the same action while hoping for a different result. Once again today my rumbling stomach is greeted by locked doors and, this time, a little old lady.

It’s election day in Canada and she was very distressed that the mealhall was closed. Since there wasn’t another soul for fifty metres she turned to me and asked a zillion questions in rapid-fire French.
Why are these doors locked? Have I missed the time to vote? Will they be open later? Did they move the room? Do you know where to vote? etc. While I was initially surprised that “Do you speak French?” was not among her queries I didn’t have any issues understanding her at all. Luckily for both of us, I even knew the answers! While I couldn’t summon the brainpower to respond in French it didn’t seem to bother her at all. She’d go on in French and I’d respond in English and I was able to take her downstairs to where she was supposed to vote. I really wish my French was better; even though I have a large enough vocabulary so I can follow most French media my grammar is atrocious. I’m also really fuzzy on how to bend past and future tenses to my needs even though I can hear when it is done correctly. It’s a mess and one I plan on rectifying either through school or just after it :)