“Then” being back when I had a 9-5 (actually, more like a 5am-9pm) with Starbucks and “Now” being now that I’ve lived here long enough to be accepted as “honorary Chinese” at the shops around these parts.

Then: three kinds of pasta
Now: three kinds of seaweed

Then: Kitsilano restaurants four nights a week
Now: poverty vegetarian stirfry five nights a week

Then: jogging at two in the morning because that’s when I got home
Now: jogging at two in the morning because that’s as late as I can put it off

Then: chinos and “dress shorts” five days a week
Now: pjs and workout clothes 9-5, cocktail dresses 5-12. I think I have chinos…

Then: smelled like coffee
Now: smell like whatever Chanel scent I last bought when I had a windfall, currently Allure

Then: SpaLady gym 3x week, running in the rain
Now: climbing apartment stairwells and doing exercise videos 3x week, running in the rain

Note: never, not for a moment, consider joining a single-sex gym. At the SpaLady there was a large group (in all senses of the word) of Eastern European women, all of whom still believed that undergarments were still strictly rationed in the West. In order to preserve the structural integrity of their bras and cheap nylon granny panties, they wore them OVER their t-shirts and polyester slacks with the topstitched crease. And they did this while wearing curlers in their hair, accented with cheap polyester chiffon headscarves.

Please God I never have to see something like that again: a row of them on the stairmasters in front of me meant I would be switching to the rowing machine ASAP. A row of jiggling granny panties, with or without lace elastic ruffles, is enough to turn anyone bulimic.