Monday, February 15, 2010


I am questioning a lot about Hermes and his in involvement in my life. On my way to work on Saturday my bike decided it had had enough, though it got me there. I knew, of course that it would be a rough ride back to Vandalia, where the bus stops, since in this gods forsaken land called Dayton the busses don't actually go to the airport where I work. But I had no idea it would be such a comical yet exasperating adventure.

I managed to get the gear system unmangled enough that I could pedal the bitch slowly out to the bus stop, but halfway there the rear tire decided to lose its axle. Allow me to explain what I mean by "lose" because this axle did not break, no, of course not. You see, he axle lost its content. Yes, the axle itself was fine, but everything around it decided to exit and fly across the road.

Now, riddle me this, what is fat, Latin, and desperately pedaling a bile with a rear tire that was wobbling like a weeble? If your answer is H├ęctor, you win.

You may wonder why I didn't just walk it, well, the answer is that the next bus would have had me waiting two hours, and I was not having that.

But, and this is part of why I do this whole blog, I did not go postal on the bike. I did not curse the day I was born. I. Simply went with the flow. You would have no idea how much progress that is for me, since you don't really know me, but I assure you, it is momentous. I have grown. I have accepted that things go wrong and to accept them when they do, and that makes me happy.

I just want to ask Hermes something. Must you always point things out to me in the most annoying way possible?

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