It Must Be Monday

With great lethargy I rolled down the front lawn and began my bike commute. I made it 100 feet before I realized that my the toe clip on my right pedal had come loose. It was missing a fixing nut and bolt. So I pulled a u-ey and went back to the shed for another weapon of transport. Little Nellie, long neglected, came to the rescue.

About 100 feet into the second attempt, I realized that the left brake hood was farther forward on the handlebar than the right one. I made an executive decision: fuggit. I rode to work lopsided. At least the little wheels on Little Nellie (my Bike Friday New World Tourist) made for rapid if somewhat uncoordinated accelerations.

I am pleased to note that I did not drop a cell phone in the toilet, trip and fall on the sidewalk, or spill coffee on my shirt during the rest of the day.

The ride home was much nicer than the ride in. Tailwinds > headwinds. I heart bike math.

When I arrived at home, my daughter (home from college) and I headed out in the car to buy a Christmas tree. Yes, we are a little late to the party. We arrived at the neighborhood church sale. No trees. We moved on to church number 2. No trees. We drove 3 miles to the Rotary Club sale. No  trees. We drove to St. Marys School of the Holy SUV in Old Town Alexandria. No trees. We went to Home Depot. No trees. It was at this point that I noticed something else. No wallet.

Bob Geldof isn’t the only one who doesn’t like Mondays.

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