although in fairness, and being a fool, it hath not rainethed all that much today, only a small amount. i hear tell of biblical storms in cumbria, but not having been there, i couldn’t really give a shit, as long as the deluge passes the westcountry by. i did cycle in this morning and it was very windy; adding a good ten minutes, at an estimate, to the commute. the force of nature, unabated, causing chaos. it was my first commute since last monday so i felt quite good, and certainly happy to be back on the bicycle, trying not to shake my fist at hapless westcountry yokels dribbling their way to work in cosseted comfort.
i work, and i don’t really like it, but i lack the energy to change things right now, so i struggle on. today was fine, i enjoyed much of it and had that faint glow of ‘productivity’ that can occur when unimportant things are completed at the expense of important things. the ‘look like your doing work and produce something for someone else’ work avoidance technique is quite an advanced one. i ruined my day in the 2 seconds it took me to make an ill-thought out, slightly hyperactive comment about/too a colleague. at which point i then had to apologise at length, and with sombre gravitas. and even now i carry it home and am really angry with myself, even though what i said wasn’t that bad, and at some point in the future – usually the leaving drinks (unless these are tomorrow, with my desk in a box and on my own with a bottle of gin) – there will be much laughter concerning the comment. so it goes. it’s about choosing your comments and matching them to colleagues, a bit like playing pairs. i quite often go a modifier and a noun to far; but again, my comment was mild, but certainly ‘insensitive’, and abosolutely ‘inappropriate’, that most vile of vildest words.
so i shall sleep on it, perchance to dream, although last night i dreamt that water was pouring through the ceiling and tree roots and earth were beginning to seep downwards, which was unnerving, it’s this thing that always happens in the first hour of sleeping, i get terrors. not every night, just once every now and then. very scary though, although not as scary as some other sleep disorders.
but back to the bikes i suppose. i am thinking about a project, ideally i’d like it to be a hetchins, but these are desperately overpriced for what they are. instead i will content myself with a vintage English path frame of some distinction and build it with gran sport parts. lovely.