The Rumor About the True Things

The nice thing about buying a trash can is that, when you come home, you've already thrown out the receipt.

I've been buying a few office supplies because, last week, I quit my job. The goal now is to find part time work with my hands (like at a bike shop or behind the controls of a radio station), and spend the remaining days of the week writing freelance. It may have made more sense to have set that up before-hand, but it just felt like the time to take the plunge. Wish me luck / say a prayer.

I've also started putting pen to paper on a novel I've had kicking around in ym head for a year. So again, luck / prayer.

* * *

A whole bunch of folks went upstate last weekend. Made some wonderful music, played games, lounged in what remained of the summer sun. Took Kay and her Batavus out on my favorite 6-mile circuit. The ride was so much fun, as was the subsequent swim we all took later in the day, then when I put on my running sneakers yet later, I had a dark and dangerous idea...

Sign up for a triathlon?


I know, I know, they're the jerks that brought us the $60 water bottle cage. But if drinking, bullshitting and food are each great on their own but an all-out blast together... you see where I'm going with this?

Dangerous stuff.