I rode to the post office twice. The first ride was my mistake, having not carefully reviewed the package slip that indicated my package would be ready for pickup at 10. It wasn't when. The second ride, when it was 10, was equally superfluous as the package slip proved not to be a binding contract, but rather a suggestion as to when the package might be available. I declined a third ride to the Post Office (though I plan to go back this morning, once I'm done with writing this) and instead went up Pennsylvania to 6th to East Capitol to the normal way to work. Along the way, I saw Dave and we rode together for a few blocks and later in the ride I saw Jesse and we rode together for a few blocks. I never really expect to see people I know when I'm out riding, but with the frequency that it happens, perhaps I should. In any case, it's nice to pedal and chat for a few blocks.
After Jesse and I parted, I headed up 22nd street, which is one way and a rather haphazard street with hotels on both sides and taxi drivers zigzagging between them. It could host a cycletrack, but I don't expect it that to happen any time. North-south connectivity of the kind that would be beneficial to me doesn't really happen west of 15th street. I guess New Hampshire might count, but it tracks back towards Dupont rather than up towards Sheridan. I guess this is the sometimes cost of having a somewhat idiosyncratic bike commute. Massachusetts Avenue, a street I know well having known it some time, was fine. Even flatter than I remember, though not flat.
The ride home was gray. There was rain. Whatever, March.
I am an inveterate starer. This is not one of my more winning virtues. In fact, I should probably not do it so much, but I just really, really like looking at faces, especially faces of bicyclists and especially bicyclists in the rain. Facial expressions vary.
"Miserable" is quite common. Second to that is what I call "grit" and then after that is "blah." Occasionally you'll see a "peeved" or "resigned" but almost never do a you a "serene." And with good reason. Serenity it hard. March rain makes it harder.
Another effect of my staring habit is peering intently into the cabs of cars that drivers have parked or idled into bike lanes. Certainly the driver must be having some kind of medical emergency as I can think of no other reason why they would otherwise be there. I would've thought that my concern for their health and well-being would be welcomed, but most of the time my stares don't seem especially appreciated. Huh.