March 23rd, 2007


I've got a brand new pair of rollerskates. A bicycle. A new key.

I rode my bike into work today for the very second time, and it was STILL fantastic. The second my bike drops off of the road over the bridge - where all of the speeding cars spew out fumes that I swear are more potent here than they were at home, even with a breeze to blow them away - and I coast down the little road that goes by All Saints Church and into Bishop's park, the world suddenly becomes a place of singing birds, arches of trees, and sudden flashes of flowers whose names I don't know. The cemetary is still full of daffodils, the dogs are all happy that they're outside, and even the people cleaning the park are chipper and say, "Good morning!" as you pass by. I know some of this is because it's spring but it just totally rocks out. BIRDIES FLOWERS DOGGIES HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY. Chirp chirp tweetle arf "Good morning!" I love it.

And, yeah, work now, whatever, let's not get into it.

I feel lazy. I don't care that it's Friday.

I'm home early. The Thames is bloated like an overfilled bathtub and seems likely to be fatter in the middle than on the edges (imagine a straight line from shore to shore and the bit in the very center being just a leetle bit higher than the straight line). I feel convinced that it is experiencing tremendous surface tension and am surprised the ducks manage to penetrate the surface with their feet. I'm pretty sure I saw a coot bounce off of it when he was landing as I rode my bike home, but it's possible they're just clumsy.

Rikity Tikity Liftie, the elevator to our flat, has gone from moaning and groaning to out of commission for the weekend. This meant I got to carry my bike up five flights of stairs. I am grateful that shadowdaddy got me a little wisp of a bike before he shoved all of our stuff onto the great big boat, or I would not have been able to make it up the stairs today.

There's work humor to relate, too (summary: shit happens), but it all seems pretty irrelevant now that I'm home. I was saying I'd go out dancing tonight, but somehow sitting here, eating some nice stewed chicken (possibly with some sort of pasta in a saffron cream sauce as a primi) with shadowdaddy and wechsler sounds way more appetizing. We'll see how I feel after a nap.
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