At this point of my biking to work saga, I no longer think about what needs doing in the mornings. I have a nice little routine going where I lay the clothes out the night before, make sure my lights are charging, and in the mornings I more or less just go through the motions instead of making a conscious choice of biking.
By that I mean that I don't ask myself whether I should take the car or the bike. The car isn't even an option in my head. I've been biking to work for eight months now and I think I've reached the point of "normal". I bike - not just because I enjoy biking so much, even though that's definitely part of it - but because biking to work is my normal now.
Anyway, these are just some random thoughts I had this morning on my bike - you know, since I didn't think about penises today.
Speaking of random:
Hubby: You never talk to me while I’m driving. You're just playing on your phone.
Me: Oh. I was just texting with my friend M who is amazing, but she can’t see anything other than her flaws. I wish I could make her see all the awesomeness inside of her. She’s like a magnificent pinata filled with such beauty, and all I want to do is just smash her in the face with a stick.
Hubby: What the f-?
Me: But in a good way.
Hubby: It’s amazing that Hallmark hasn’t called you yet.
Me: I know. They don’t have nearly enough cards about pinatas. Hey, do my eyeballs smell?
Hubby: Are you high right now?
Me: No, I’m serious. If I said “It smells like ass in here” you’d know what I mean. Same thing with armpits, and earwax, and feet, and unwashed hair, but you never hear people saying “something smells like eyeballs in here”. I wonder if humans are immune to the smell of eyeballs.
Hubby: This is not even close to what I had in mind when I asked you to talk to me.
Me: Well, that’s the danger of not giving me a topic. I bet cats can smell eyes. That’s probably why when I wake up sometimes Posey’s face is like an inch from mine, and he’s staring right at my eyeballs. They probably smell awesome.
Hubby: Or terrible.
Me: I bet they smell delicious.
Me: Smell my eyeballs.
Hubby: I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.
Me: Well, now I’m all curious. I can’t smell my own eyeballs, dude. This exactly why I got married.
Hubby: You got married so you’d have someone to smell your eyeballs?
Me: Well, not specifically. I mean, it wasn’t in the vows. But it was implied.
Hubby: You know what? I take it back. Please, please go back to your phone. You win.
Me: Really? I didn’t even know we were fighting.