It seems that the allegorical tale of near drunken death and breast ogling aboard the RMS Titanic was met with less than stellar reviews from my wife. I believe the term she used was, “It was a bit much.” Sigh.
I’m not one to argue with a reviewer, but I think she missed the story’s silver lining, which pointed out that no matter how bad things seem to be, they can sort of maybe work out. But first, a bunch of people are going to die.
Having a plan on Friday proved useless, so I entered Saturday planless and brainless. In other words, it was just me being me.
I was up around 8 for coffee, toast, and a couple of dippy eggs before lubing up Mr. Burgundy (not code for sex) and getting my shit together for a quick ride in the rapidly warming morning sun.
Someday this will all be over. Eventually, I will wake up in the morning and know what day it is, and care what day it is. Someday the country won’t be a polarized and divided dumpster fire, and the name of the orange fuck face in the White House will just be a despicable footnote in the pretty darn, not bad history of our country.
Until that day comes, I will keep doin’ what I do to make life fun: ride bikes, take photos, hike trails, love my wife and kid, watch the footy, drink beer, and make food.
I don’t know, man [rubs gelatinous, stubbled cheeks, then eyes, followed by a pull of unkempt hair]. I haven’t been on my bike since Friday, and I don’t know whether I’m happy, moderately upset, almost sad, or not giving a shit about it.
NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.
After Sunday morning’s lackluster dirt road ride, I promised myself two things:
NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.
Monday was yet another windy day in mid-Michigan, and other than some brief time reintroducing myself to the dread-mill, lifting heavy things for no reason, and my thrice-weekly trip to the grocery store, I did nothing.
I did manage to work on losing what’s left of my mind by going through and processing some photos I took late last July during a brief visit home to Pennsylvania.
NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.
Wednesday brought the subtlest of changes to my routine of not having a routine, but they were enough to give my brain the “rub and a tug” it needed.
NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____
As I start to type this, it’s 11:04 AM on Tuesday. I’ve been awake for just 12 minutes. And I fully admit, I had to quickly glance at the upper right corner of my monitor to see what day it is. Isn’t it just one long-ass pointless pandemic of a day?
A former mountain biker turned chubby part-time cyclist/full-time slacker with a camera recently said, “I suppose February will be bringing more of the same. Good thing, the same isn’t so bad.” And you know what? That chubby slacker was right!
Lately, I’ve been a bit too lax in my updates on doing stuff. Mostly because I realize now—more than ever—that no one wants to read about a chubby, fair-weather cycling slacker who spends most of his time wandering around the woods with his camera and lifting heavy things for no reason in the gym. But hey, there are pictures!
