Look at me! I'm a genius!
2006-09-20 - 4:56 p.m.
Whoo-wee, today started out unbelievably crappy. I show up on time for the bus (for once), and exalt in a victory dance proclaiming my own awesomeness and the utter vanquishment of the Bus Driver Who Always Leaves Very Early. But yaha! What's this? The bus never shows up. A bearded gentlemen appears out of nowhere, like some sort of crazed Bad News Santa, telling commuters up and down the bus line that Major Artery Into the City has been shut down! In both directions! Marooned! KHHAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNN!!!!!! I duly call in to work, announcing my incipient lateness, and then proceed to call Prince R, harraunging him to get me information. Give me input, much like Number 5. R can find no satisfactory input to give me, as evidently this whole internets thing is a bag of violet-scented B.S., and does not contain timely updates on various pages. VDOT, I'm looking at you.
So the later bus finally chugs into view, and we all pile on. At which point I am confronted with an unspecified gal. Now kids, I'm not a morning person. And I'm not a big public talker. The commute is my special time to listen to my music. This morning I was planning on listening to some Rachmaninoff, or possibly some Chieftans. But instead, I sat with unspecified gal and we made the small talk. Now, I was taught that when one is making the small talk, one typically asks reciprocal questions, especially when the two conversants are known to have something in common. I asked unspecified gal how her running was going. EVEN THOUGH we have gone out on runs together, she did not ask me how my running was going (answer: nowhere, since I got thrown off track by the big asthma flareup in July, and since then have abandoned by training, especially now that I see how much fun biking is (R bought me a bike for my birthday last week, but more about that later)). Then she looks at my outfit and says "Oh, so your office must be very casual, then?" I readily admit I am no fashion plate. I am no Audrey Hepburn, not even in the beginning part of Funnyface. But I was wearing khakis, a nice black longsleeve top, a celadon scarf and a beguiling pink beret. Sure, I wasn't dressed up, but I didn't think I looked like Bobo the slatternly organutuan, either. GAWD! There were other aspects of the conversation about her extremely intelligent friend, but I shall cut it short--suffice it to say that I do not suffer fools gladly, and the one of the quickest way to get on my shit list is to talk about how you or people you know are very highly educated and therefore incredibly brilliant. Dude, if you're smart, you don't need to tell me. I'l figure it out, I promise you. And being aware of current events doesn't make one a fucking genius, by the way. It simply means that one is not living under a stone in a manner reminiscent of a toad.
To make a long and fairly boring and vituperative story short, I got to work only 5 minutes late. I walked into my boss's office and said "Guess that whole thing about the highway being shut down was a rumor." He informed that that it had not in fact been a rumor, that there was something involving a helicopter and perhaps a medivac on the highway, but that it had cleared by the time I called him. So all's well that ends well, as Shakespeare would say. See, I'm a genius! I'm so well educated! I can bring Shakespeare into various conversations!
In other, happier news, R bought me a bike last weekend--specifically, this bike. In powder blue. Although there were other bikes that were purtier, this bike rides like a dream. We went on a 22-mile ride on Sunday, and although my quads protested quite sternly at all traipsing up stairs for a day or so afterwards, the ride itself was fairly easy. The Shimano gears work like a dream, and I am not stingy in their use. I enjoy running, but the enjoyment is always about conquering, about doing something that I didn't think I could do. Riding my bike is just pure fun. Sure, it's challenging getting up hills and keeping up with Prince R on his elite Peugeot. But I come in from a ride thinking "I can't wait to do that again," rather than "At least I got through that session." It's the most fun exercising I've had in years. Last week we did 40 miles, and we're going to try to keep that up through the winter. It almost feels illicit, to be having such fun. Outside of the bed.
That said, I think my day will end a hell of a lot better than it started.
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