Why am I in such a rush?

Walking down the street, it's an early spring morning on Tiohtià:ke, the city of Montreal is quiet in its bustle. I'm charging, setting one foot in front of the other in a power walk that seems to indicate I am in, plainly, a hurry. A hurry to get where? The bakery.

I'm walking as if it were a competition to make it to the bakery in order to enjoy my fre…