Morning thoughts

“Ngggpleaseplease nowakeuptimeyet —”

“Yawn. Why couldn’t days start at quarter to noon? And, come to think of it, end fifteen minutes after it?”

“Aither someone is stolen my summer tire from under my bed, or Ah ain’t got one. Well, maybe the bicycle repairman can provide.”

“Dang A Way With Words is a good podcast. And dang this half-an-hour-one-way bicycle commute would be terrible without an mp3 player.”

“And the bike goes to the repairman. Because changing tires costs less in money than it would in blood, sweat and tears. And this way I have someone to curse beside myself if the front wheel detaches halfway down the Slope of Doom.”

(On my everyday hole-to-uni biking route, the Slope of Doom is a swift downhill just before the Whackamole Junction. The latter name refers to visibility; you’re going easily downhill, and suddenly there’s a car coming from a side road, and “Whack!” you go. It’s whackamole with an iron mole and a flesh mallet. If that comparison makes you cringe, well, me too. That’s why my brakes squeal all the way down the Slope… of Doom!)

“Well here’s a good sign, a squirrel crossing my path. And only a few feet outside my office. (Still outdoors, though. This ain’t the biology building.) Upsides of a small university.”

“Coins, button, will it vend? Yes it will; come to papa you sweet caffeinated drink.”

And then to work.

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