I woke up this morning, like many, on my couch with my TV on. The time was around 1AM. My unbrushed teeth felt just as they were, and my body still had the sticky, sweaty feeling that you only get by driving for more than 3 hours. I was fucking fried.
But sometimes that feeling of being fried leads to being refreshed. I eventually relocated to my bed and set several alarms to be up at 7 sharp. And 715. And 730. and 745.
As I drag myself out of my door, I wonder where the home health aide who usually says "hi" to me in the morning is, as I haven't seen her in a few days. None the matter. I hop on my fix gear and slug it up the hill, then the other hill, cross the main street, lock my bike, and get on the metro.
More often than not, the train will be there when I get there. And it didn't fail today. The only surprise was that I was stuck on it for a good 45 minutes because of some "emergency" at Rosslyn. Lame. But also I didn't care. I checked my emails before I left for work, anyway.
The air is cool, and admittedly dry, for once this year. You can see the tinge of autumn creeping in from across the Potomac (y'all dig the picture I'm painting?), but soon come back to reality as you have beads of sweat dripping down your neck.
Work is work. Sometimes you get lucky and your supervisor doesn't decide to show up. Sometimes you get lucky and get sent home for a huge storm that never happens. Sometimes you don't. Today was a mix. Half of the office was teleworking, my bosses were in meetings all day, and I had an extra 15 for my lunch. A very formidable "W", if you ask me.
I scurry out of my job at 4:52, because I make a nickel and the boss makes a dime. Instead of being responsible, I go to a very randomly placed Spanish restaurant off of 17th street for a cerveza and a mollete, embrace the chow, and leave all in 20 minutes. The train was right next to the spot, and I was home within the hour.
After destroying me knee at the skatepark and icing it for almost 4 days, I felt as if a bike ride was needed. At first it was just to Lincoln Park, but then I was at the Capitol, which is close enough to southwest to where I decided to send it to the Wharf. The sunset was nice. Nice enough to where I posted it on Instagram. I don't care that I just mentioned that either.
My headphones have been on shuffle for the last hour or so of my bikeride, skipping from Carti, to Title Fight, Tim Maia, Pavement, Rosinha de Valenca, Biggie, you get the gist. For some reason, I felt like I was back in Chesterfield skating around with no aim. It was a very eye opening moment for me to feel like I was 15 again in a different setting.
The temperature has made it so it's ok to be outside at night without overheating. My back patio finally has some potential now. I drank my last beer before I went on the bike ride, but I'll probably go get some more.
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