The Best Part of Waking Up

It is so difficult leaving a warm bed in the morning. This is compounded by Julian sleeping in our room. Every morning starts with two cups of espresso. It has become my new addiction. At least the days are growing noticeably longer-- I can feel it each day. Biking to work in the morning poses a few psychological barriers. It isn't much of a physical feat. This morning I woke up to a dusting of snow. I spend an hour working on my brakes last night before I realized that the rotors I had recently purchased were different than the stock brakes. I purchased narrower rotors- with the same outer diameter. These should work, but the fins were catching on the pads, making a noise that I originally thought was from a warped rotor in the rear. After microadjusting, they were finally in alignment. I was not about to switch wheels at this point, and the snow looked too light for studded tires. At least it was dry.

As I was leaving, I noticed it was raining. On a positive note, the rain had melted all the snow. Keep in mind, there was snow everywhere just a half hour earlier. I quickly changed into my rain gear. This proved to be a wise move, as the wind was very cold, and my ride was through sleet, snow, and rain. I felt like my nose was being sandblasted off my face when I hit the wind. It was probably the least pleasant commute to date- perhaps only rivaled by a commute where I broke a tire bead, or the time I broke the seat post.

As I approached the locker room area, I could tell that "Stinky Guy" had ridden to work. When I opened the door, the stench was overpowering, and the man himself was standing there. He must be lacking an olfactory system-- his rancid sour-smelling clothing almost make me nauseous. I don't even like the idea that my towel hangs anywhere in the vicinity of his clothing. I have contemplated bringing air fresheners, etc. but he doesn't commute often enough for me to remember.

As I shaved without a mirror in the shower, I encountered the worst feeling short of a medical procedure- catching my fingernail with the razor. I don't know what it is about this that makes it feel so uncomfortable, but I hate it. It only seems to occur when I don't have a mirror. Shaving "blind" is difficult enough as it is. I always miss spots and cut myself. You would think that after decades of shaving, I could "do it with my eyes closed," but somehow it isn't that easy. At least I had hot water today.