This morning when I biked to work, I really shouldn’t have.
It was 90 ° at 7:45am with humidity above 50%. I had the dog in a backpack, and a pack of my suit and clothes sitting above the rear wheel. I bike along Lake Michigan, and, while beautiful, is also tough because the wind coming off the lake is usually shooting right at me.
Yes. I’m talking about you.
(I address my bicycle as “you”.)
I know. That was dumb. And made you feel uncomfortable for a moment. Especially if you’re a dude. Well, I guess maybe not all dudes would have felt uncomfortable. Certain ones.
I have come to a sad and shameful realization. For some reason over the past few weeks, for perhaps the first time in my life…
I am not waking up on time.
Here’s my routine. I arise at 6am, shower, and slip into a t–shirt and shorts. I jump on my bicycle, strap the dog to my back and ride downtown.
I'll never give this child another cigarette, pinky swears!
