… is a very scary thing. Okay maybe I’m not actually reconsidering, but given my utter lack of enthusiasm for school and the bike-mania of late, it’s a very appetizing fantasy to play out in my head.
Through the acquaintance of a new (bike messenger) friend, I was offered a job bike messengering. In a small town. In Germany. On the edge of the Black Forest. Brain=explosion.
In an odd twist of irony, one that made me cackle with riotous laughter when I was first offered the job, I remember when I went hiking with my sister in said enchanted forest and ended up getting lost because the trail map was 100 per cent useless. It was a mailman in his cheery yellow cube truck that pointed us in the right direction after we ran down the dirt road, arms flailing and hollering at the top of our lungs to get his attention. I hope my mother never reads this, she wasn’t supposed to find out how we almost perished in the great wild of Bavaria.
PS: I was about done writing de damn tingz when Jessica saunters up, asks me what I’m still doing here (here being the school library on a bloody Tuesday at 10:30 p.m.), pulls up a wheely chair, and in the mostly-automatic process of sitting down, manages to wipe out on the ground.
PPS: Speaking of wiping out, I ruined my left hip and ass when I went down on a wet streetcar track last week. May God strike down the City of Toronto and their novelty trolley lines in a blitzkrieg of lightning.