my bike got stolen. as if on top of everything else, I just needed my one little bit of love and joy to be snatched away. That ride to and from work, in the wind, in the rain, in between busses and yuppies driving SUVs with a starbucks in one hand and a iphone in the other, it was my meditation for the day. Pop those headphones in, put on some beats, and I could just ride for miles and miles, that repetition that balance that fluid movement. Gone.
So I was really sick all week. Like I was almost ready to march my ass to the ER on wednesday, like I was all ready to tell people I got some Hiney (mostly just amused that someone decided to start calling it that somewhere out there on the interwebs, because what makes a pandemic seem less threatening than a cutesey name), but it really just ended up being a really nasty cold that made me miss work this week (and be late on my rent too). Before that I was sick with problems still stemming back to a bad reaction I had with some medication like 6 months ago since my hormones are going all oout of control. Oh yeah and last week I lost my keys, that was really fun and I'm not even going to go into how much fun I had. So I couldn't go rescue my baby from where I parked it up in Wickerpark over the weekend because by the time I was able to come back and ride it home, that's when I got sick and have been on bedrest till today. So when I came back to get my ride today, instead of the bike, I simply found the pole it had been locked to, bent at about a 30 degree angle across the sidewalk with no bike on it. The tears will come most likely at some point next week when I am stuck on a redline and am about to throttle someone.
seriously i need to go get like screenwriting for dummies or something and just write everything how it happens to me day by day, and i'll be swimmin in money in a few months after i sell the script to like CBS as a 30 min sitcom. I kinda want to make every sound on my cell phone be a laugh track because i feel like that, and a studio audience, are the only things keeping my life from being someone's sitcom.
there will be no more of this anytime in the near future, more like beat up paperbacks stolen from the harold washington library and rice with soy sauce for me.
in case your the dickhead who took my bike, i will castrate you with a mellonballer when i get my hands on you