Kangatopia

It’s only 3pm, and already I feel like the wringer and I have been going at it all day and still haven’t reached the cigarette finale. Both Monkey and Bear are sporting pink eye infections which makes them look like they got into a fist fight with each other. An ugly bruise on Bear’s forearm only punctuates the effect, giving Monkey the clear victory. Winston evaded the punches in this round, but I’m not all that optimistic that she’ll emerge unscathed.

I got on the road for work this morning, only to have a nice leisurely 30 mile drive in with an average speed of 5 miles per hour. Since I was an hour late for work, I employed my usual duck and cover tactics to get from car to desk. Luck wasn’t exactly avoiding me, in that my primary supervisor was three hours late herself, but it wasn’t with me either when I found a note on my chair saying so and so is “looking for you.” That’s when the headache started.

Somehow, some day I would be very grateful if this could all be just a little bit easier. Life feels like a non-stop dodge from trouble on days like this, and if I’m honest, every other day too. I’m tired of living on a never ending schedule, though I still want my children to know how to value one.

I suspect that my issues today have more to do with not riding my bike since two days ago. I never thought I would see the day when I missed exercising, but it has come to pass. I took the day off from cycling on Monday, and then yesterday found that heavy rains had washed out bits of the trails and after a mile and a half of muddy water, I turned my bike around and went home. It took me 15 minutes to get ready, I had 15 minutes on the bike before aborting and then it took half an hour to wash all the mud off. Tonight I shall try again. Finger crossing and wishbone pulling may not make a good, fast dash around the lake a reality, but they sure as hell offer hope. And hope is a wonderful thing.

Until disappointment rears up and slaps you on the ass.