Well, this is going nowhere.
(Much like me on a luge sled, as that sport requires a level of courage and athleticism I couldn't even pretend to fake.)
Not to be too gripey, but walking or riding down the middle of a pathway and then getting mad that someone wants to pass you and can't because you're in the middle of the path and then only begrudgingly moving over and making a big deal about how put out you are about it- wait, did I say not to be too gripey? Because this sounds too gripey. Anyway.
Took 33rd to Volta. Watched and heard a driver honk at the driver in front of her because he stopped fully at a stop sign. How droll.
Took the regular way home and it was a beautiful night for cycling. I won't belabor how nice it was, just in case you didn't get a chance to ride home. And totally not because I'm kinda out of things to write and also kind of very tired. Yeah, that's it. Oh, also Evo Morales is trying to kill me.
Ok, not really, but a driver stopped short to make a sudden turn into the Bolivian embassy on Massachusetts, and my bike made screechy brake noises, but eventually stopped, so that was fun and exciting. But other than that, not much eventful. There remains little international intrigue between work and home.