I’ve been ill this week with some sort of medieval influenza and cold, along with everyone else in the House. The walls have echoed with the tubercular sounds of the infirm.
As a result, i’ve been driving to work. I cycled on tuesday but then felt so utterly wretched I’ve used the car for the rest of the week. I couldn’t even imagine being on the bike. This is a complete reversal and feels odd. Normally I can’t imagine being in the car and do everything possible to avoid being just another ranting, shouty moronic driver. This week i’ve seen cyclists and felt apart from them. I haven’t wanted to be them, i’ve just wanted to stay in the warm car and drive slowly to work, insulated by the hermetically-sealed environment and by the abject fuzziness in my cold-addled brain.
It’s odd insofar as when i get to work i’m ready to work. I don’t have to undergo a reverse-superman transformation. I also have much more time in the mornings because I’m not spending an hour on the bike.
It’s just peculiar. i don’t know what to make of it. On a side note, I’ve seen lots of good cycling and huge amount of terrible driving.