Having not cycled to work on cycle to work day I today cycled to work. Not on the killer commuter but on my Santa Cruz beast. The beast - Chameleon, actually - is not trying to kill me. What it does is encourage me (as far as an inanimate object can offer encouragement) to kill myself. Death draws closer in one of two ways; exchaustion as I try to pilot the heavy bastard up anything other than the smallest of hills, or stupidity as I feel far more confident than I should as I appoach stuff I can jump from.
I have been desperately trying to get back into my blogging. Today has not been a good day to refocus. I have today, at work, inherited a large bucket of poo that I can do little with but stare at and scrape away at. If anything the smell of this poo is ripening to a real stink as the day moves into the evening and We are pissing sparks from the axels today, the wheels having fallen off early.
Maybe tomorrow, eh...
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