The cold doesn’t seem to want to let go any longer. The little snow that fell during the night looks like opaque ice, the objects no longer move (they were already not running), the houses look like old ladies. The walk will have been short for me, the work calls me, but I still got some air.
I could have worked all evening, but I didn’t. I went to rehearse with the other choristers for next Sunday’s concert. A few days ago, Mr. Jean-Coutu-the-rich reportedly said that he found people too family-oriented, that they did not have their hearts set on work, that it hurt business, that he could not find people to work. Well, that’s not it, Mr. Coutu. There are forms of growth that do not turn into greenbacks; they only manifest themselves in emotions and self-realization. You have to live, Mr. Coutu. Your growth model makes the planet sick, and so do we (after that, you’re happy to sell us your pills). So get off our backs and give your employees better working conditions. You’ll see, they’ll grow as much and so will your cash drawer.