Normal’s Just a Word

I don’t want to say I feel like I’m back to normal, but I’m feeling about as normal as I’ve felt in a long time. Physically, of course, the S.S. Mental Normality sailed long ago and is presumed sunk at the bottom of the ocean with no survivors.

After four days of Zwift™-ing on the hammer in the Not So Stankment, I headed to the shop on Friday to work a few hours behind the counter, thankfully for you (and for me) I was nowhere near a tool or a work stand other than skulking around the shop with my camera.

I was up reasonably early on Saturday, ate, watched footy and then headed to the basement again to get some more miles in.

Miles were ridden, sweat was sweated, tunes were digested by my ear holes, and then I ascended from the basement family room to make lunch, and watch more footy, before I cracked some beers and got my “JESUS H. CHRIST, IT’S STILL WINTER!” slack on.

That slack would continue right on into Sunday, where I slept late, never left the house, watched more footy and drank more beer. I did clean our bedroom which was starting to look like a cul de sacian flophouse, so I guess that’s something productive.

***

There is a busy week ahead filled with a mind-bender appointment, soccer practice, a rare weeknight indoor match, and a host of other appointments and duties before we head out of town for a soccer tournament on Friday afternoon. Somewhere in the midst of all that I need to start some promised design shit, work on some personal projects, and get in more miles of riding nowhere fast.

Later.

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