Rides 7/8: not writing about it

I rode to work today and it was great and I rode home and it was even better. Everything was great and I had a great time and I really enjoyed myself, with everything being great and all. I count myself extraordinarily lucky to be able to bicycle to and from work in one of the greatest cities in the world, so what's not great about that? Nothing, that's what. Great times were had by all. Or by me, at least. Great. 

I took the old route in the morning and it was comforting to ride once more on familiar paths made slightly less familiar from a not brief absence. On the way back, I took the normal route and it was comforting to ride along a familiar route made even more familiar from daily repetition. They say that familiarity breeds contempt, but I don't really think that's true. Maybe familiarity breads contempt, perhaps with panko for a kind of contempt tempura. Delicious, but unhealthy, I bet. 

Oh, I'm not going to write about (or even link to) that silly thing that someone wrote in the newspaper (whatever that is), though I will obliquely mention it and so I have. I am, however, going to ride my bike to and from work tomorrow and the next day, but not Friday because I think I might work from home, but then again for the foreseeable future and so long as it remains the cheapest and most convenient way for me to go back and forth. [I'd actually prefer to walk, but it's just too far and would take too long.] Silly things might happen sometimes and  dangerous things might happen other times and maybe I'll get frustrated and maybe I'll frustrate the people around or perhaps it'll just be kinda humdrum and boring and beige. I'd be ok with that. Who hates beige? No one hates beige. Everyone hates beige. 

1 comment:

  1. I think you're hiding the existential terror that your "great ride" (what an entitled phrase!) sowed in ordinary Washingtonians around you. Aren't you?