Snails In Spandex

Goddamit! There are just too many idiots on the road! And I'm not referring to cars. The cars are the least of my problems. This nice weather brings with it a myriad of moronic cyclists and I want to punch every single one of them in their stupid faces. I can practically hear their imbecile thoughts as they look at the weather forecast and think to themselves, "Oooo, it's going to be sunny out so I better wriggle into my ridiculous spandex outfit and hop on a bike that will show everyone that I have far more money than intelligence and then I'm going to ignore every traffic law there is because I'm just that good."


No! You slow snail! You are not that good! You race me downhill with zero clearance, then speed up as you hear me gaining on you on flats and inclines, huffing and puffing and looking as if you're about to have a heart attack, but letting me pass you - hell, no! And it's going to get worse. I might have to move to the middle of nowhere.

Biking makes me so relaxed.

Two things are happening this weekend: I'm doing the Emerald City Bike Ride and I'm meeting my first person off Google+, so I guess I should say this to +Jessica Lucas - I'm not really this angry. And I promise you that I won't push anyone off their bikes. No matter how tempting.

Stealing Toilet Paper And A Tom Hardy Disappointment

I went to a Pampered Chef party last night with a friend. I didn't think I'd make it, but I'll get to that later. I got roped into this by my boss who said that she would only go if I went so I went and, of course, my boss is a no show but luckily my friend went with me.

I quickly realized that the Pampered Chef is 1: freaking expensive and 2: fucking retarded. I realized this when my friend leaned over and said "Oooh look this thing minces garlic and slices it!" My rebuttal was, "Ya, it's called a knife" Then my friend asked why I went to this in the first place and I said I really just wanted to hang out and get free wine and food.

Who needs a fucking brownie pan for individual slices?

The Pampered Chef catalog was teeming with crap that no one needs. For instance, an avocado knife? What's wrong with using just a regular butter knife? A thing that mashes ground beef, aka a spatula? Spice blends that I could make myself? I am convinced that women will buy literally anything at any price as long as it comes in pretty packaging and all their other female friends are doing it.


My friend said that the point of all these extra kitchen gadgets is to make cooking easier, but really it's overpriced stuff that you don't need. The only way that I would buy a $20 spatula would be if that spatula would buy the food, cook the meal and then have sex with me after the meal, wash the dishes and be sure to call me the next day.

The reason for my larger cloud of snarkiness than usual was due to bike troubles. Tom Hardy failed me again. I was less than two miles from home, midway up the 152nd Ave SE hill, when my rear gears just wouldn't shift. Each time I tried shifting to a lower gear, the chain shifted to a higher gear. Then the gears just stopped responding completely. The front gears worked fine.

So now I'm in the highest gear possible in a 15.7% hill. Great. So I got off my bike, walked it up to a flatter area to see if some momentum would fix the gear situation. It didn't. I got up on the sidewalk, flipped the bike on its head, then tried shifting like that. Still absolutely nothing. Well, I wasn't about to walk my bike home so I called hubby to pick me up and take me to a Volkswagen dealer - kidding. I just like saying that.

Hubby took me to Gerk's, my LBS, and I made it there 20 minutes prior to closing. This is where greasing your bike mechanic with a case of beer comes in handy. My bike mechanic saw me walk in, dropped what he was doing, and tended to my bike. Yeay!


What turned out to be the problem was inside the gear housing. One of the metal ends had come loose from the rubber tube so whatever grabs onto the wire to make shifting possible didn't have anything to grab onto. I dont' know if this makes any sense. Anyway, he fixed the problem, and Tom Hardy is back in action today.

Biking In Shorts!

I decided to brave the cold and pretend it's summer this morning. The problem with pretending it's summer when it's freezing fog, is that exposed body parts tend to get very cold. Pretend summer or not.

I rode Tom Hardy in this morning and man, how I've missed him. Channing is great too, but he's a beast of a bike and doesn't handle the same way as Tom. Tom is far more elegant and nimble but I have decided that he's a fair weather bike.

I still haven't thawed yet from my ride in but it's looking promising for my ride home. Turns out it's not pure lies that come from Nick the weatherman.


This weekend is the second organized ride of the year. Well, when I say ride, it's not so much a ride rather than an experience. Anything less than 50 miles is not a bike ride. I'll add a few miles to it by biking to the start line at the UW and I might just bike the south loop of Lake Washington post ride. If it's not raining - again.

About A Boy

You know how you have fantasies you can't share with your spouse for a multitude of reasons, so you put these neatly in a drawer, thinking that very drawer is closed for good.

And for a while you are perfectly content with that drawer being closed, because life is busy and rewarding in so many other ways.

But as time passes by and circumstances change, you can hear those fantasies starting to rattle around in a drawer you thought permanently closed. So you start wondering again. You start dreaming. You start wanting. Though as much as you find yourself wanting to explore these fantasies, you are unwilling to risk what you have built.

I met a boy. A boy that made me think of possibilities I thought weren't there anymore. A boy that's got me dreaming again and has awakened the butterflies who are currently dancing around like mad.

It's nice knowing that I can still feel this way, but whether or not I'll act on it isn't decided yet. For now it remains a tempting mirage.

Anyways, that's what's on my mind today.

Tour de Cure - Again

Hello my spandex clad friends. It's that time again that I come knocking, hat in hand, to ask you to contribute to my fundraising for diabetes.

Please, please, please, donate.

You can donate here.



Trust me, you don't want me to sing, dance, or play any instrument. Your eyes and ears will start bleeding.

However, if you give me your address or email (privately), I will send you an autographed photo of me.

Here's hoping for a happy ending!

Ps! Not that photo.

Pps! Or whatever. If you really, really want a photo of my butt with my name scribbled across it, then so be it. Who am I to judge.

Faster Than The Speed Of A Fred

Man, oh man, how the Freds are a'popping.  There are Freds everywhere! And they're kinda all over the place as well. I'm not saying I'm not a Fred/Doris, because I probably am, but I think there must be degrees of Fredness. In my neck of the woods, the degree of Fredness is determined by how much yellow you're wearing and how much reflecting fabric and blinking lights you have on your bike.


I'm really glad I'm not prone to seizures because the amount of biking disco balls I encountered today would have sent me into a seizing orbit. All these bike light festivities started to cause some amount of grump buildup in me, and I felt a growing urge to maybe push one of these ridiculous biking Teletubbies into a bush or something.

But then I saw something else, something that made the bike ride in today all worth it. As I'm approaching a red light at the intersection of 145th Pl and Lake Hills Blvd, I spy with my little eyes a man in his early 70s, dressed in a dapper pinstriped suit, nice dress shoes, and a funky wool hat under his helmet, riding an ancient green bike. He was something else.


I guess he had eyes in the back of his head because he had moved to the side as he was waiting for the light to turn, so I pulled up next to him to really admire his stylin' outfit. I said "Good morning" with a level of enthusiasm I reserve for Channing Tatum and was all smiles. After a few seconds, because I imagine sound travels slowly through all the style and his wool hat, he turns his head, gives me a once over to see if I'm worthy of a response, then turns his head (all this in slow motion), making me think I failed whatever test he was putting me through, but then, when he has turned his head facing straight ahead again, he says "Good morning, good morning, good morning. That it is." Just like that.

Shortly after the light turns green and it's time to go. I almost asked him if I could take his photo, but the moment passed and I didn't seize it. Off we both go. The next light is also red so I turn around to see if I can spot him and maybe get his photo. He is nowhere to be seen - and the thing is, there is nowhere he could have gone between the first and the second light. So now I'm thinking he might be a figment of my imagination.

Maybe all the Freds decked in yellow and their blinky lights made me hallucinate.

How Bike Chick Learned The Virtue Of Patience At Costco

The rain thing is no longer charming or funny or pleasurable. I hate the way my pants go "swoosh swoosh" and I hate wearing that portable sauna also called rain jacket.

I'm not asking for much. Not an entire month. Just a week. One week of sunshine and short sleeves.

I'm too invested to quit biking so that's not an option to change status quo, so the only option left is for the rain to stop.


Why this sudden burst of bike hating? Come to think of it, I think I like hating on stuff as much as I like biking. And Tom Hardy.

There are times like these I have to remind myself why I love biking so much or optionally just let my body go on auto. Besides I need biking these days as I have tons on my mind and a big decision to make. I have two solid offers from great employers with tons of opportunity for growth but the thing is - I know that I have it good where I am as well. I am bored - yes, but these people treat me well and that's nothing to sneeze at. I know too well what it's like to work with real assholes. A certain cardiovascular surgeon is at the top of my shit list.


Speaking of assholes. Apparently, it was "Asshole Day" at Costco (which is always, really). As I pulled into the parking lot in the pouring rain, I noticed a woman just getting into her car which was parked right up front, near the store. Great parking karma and all that I thought and pulled up near her, put on my blinkers and waited. And waited. And waited. And waited some more. I could see her rooting around inside the car. Didn't she understand that time is precious and that I wasn't getting any younger?!?!?


I got increasingly annoyed. Unless you have some weird Costco fetish and are in desperate need to rub one out to scratch that itch, there is absolutely no valid reason why you need to tinker around in your car for several minutes when other people are waiting. I didn't get the Costco fetish vibe from the woman in the car, ergo zero excuses for robbing me of my youth.

After waiting a couple of more minutes, I honked my horn. She glanced back, looked at me, then continued doing what she was doing. Just as I was getting ready to lose my shit, I saw a man heading towards the car opposite the asshole in the first car, so I pulled up directly behind the asshole car, put my blinkers on the other way and waited for the guy to move. He had a huge cart filled with Costco loot, but by then I was in no hurry anymore so I leaned back and waited.

Of course, by then, the asshole in the first car was done with whatever needed doing and was ready to leave. Well, I was in no position to move or I would lose the parking spot to my right so I ignored her small honks.

As I was sitting there in my new found meditative state, I heard tapping on my window. It was asshole lady. I rolled down my window and gave her the "can I help you?" look. "Would you mind moving your car so I can get out?" she said. I explained that since she hadn't moved for several minutes, I'd assumed she had decided to stay. She looked slightly embarrassed and mumbled something about things she had needed to do in the car before she pulled out. (Like knitting a scarf or growing a tree?) I assured her, with a smile reserve for asshole patients, that I'd be happy to move right out of her way - as soon as I could pull into the space ahead. She stared at me for a moment and then, apparently having decided she didn't want to engage in a full-on brawl in the middle of the Costco parking lot in the rain (the only other option), she retreated back to the safety of her vehicle.

And no, she wasn't driving a Prius - the new Hummer, whose only good thing is that having one saves you from going door to door telling everyone in your neighborhood that you're an asshole. The Prius has an added bonus: you don't have to announce that you're vegan. All though, being vegan doesn't come with a limitation on announcements.

Perhaps The Bunny Life Isn't So Bad...

I'm so excited over the photos I took a while back. I'm amazed at how well they turned out and how fun it actually was to take them. I'll admit I was a bit of a Nervous Nellie at the beginning, but as I said, the photographer was great! Which got me thinking - maybe I chose the wrong line of work. But then I started thinking about how most women who enter the adult entertainment industry - perhaps through the more grey area of softcore magazines, for the most part end up exploited and used.

Because there's a huge difference between my innocent little photo session and women who pose for various magazines; I chose to do this and enjoyed it. I didn't have to do it to earn a living. Not that I'm judging. If your life long dream is to pose nude or participate in adult movies and you end up with a flourishing career doing what you love, more power to you.

These are a few of the photos I had taken, but I won't be wearing a bunny tail anytime soon.








Speaking of bunnies - there are a lot of them hopping about these days. Despite their fluffy cuteness, they are lethal! I came close to crashing numerous times last time they were bouncing about.

I haven't written a lot about biking lately because there really hasn't been a lot to report. I suspect this will change once "biking season" starts for real again. So while I haven't filled my weekends with escapades on two wheels, I have filled them with other variations of it.


Two down, Four To Go

I had interview one and two of four last Friday and was offered both jobs - which leaves me in several predicaments. I'll get to those shortly but first - interviews! They are the worst! I've been on both sides of the process and I get why there has to be form questions, but that doesn't mean they're not stupid.

Hall of fame:

What’s your greatest weakness?
Where do you see yourself in five years?
With all the talented candidates, why should we hire you?
If you were a [can of soup, species of animal, etc.] which one would you be?


After a change of jobs became a reality, I had a good think over the weekend. The thing is, I feel bad. I feel bad about wanting to leave. My manager is going out in maternity leave shortly and I know I will stress her out in a big way if I give notice now. She might go into premature labor because of it.

But the thing is, she isn't much of a manager. She's a good person but managing isn't her strong suit. Remember my coworker who gets away with murder? That shit is still going on strong and it's getting really old now.


Look, I know there really isn't such a thing as The Perfect Job, so what it comes down to is whether the positives outweigh the negatives. And in many ways, such is the case with my current job. The job in and of itself is a breeze. I could do it with my eyes closed. My coworkers are fine the majority of the time, I've never had a conflict with anyone here (they are way too passive aggressive anyway for that to happen), and they pay me well.

I'm full of First World problems these days, aren't I.

Speaking of problems, the rain is back.

After having biked in short sleeves however briefly, it was a little tough to return to full rain gear this morning. Fuck rule #5. It sometimes just sucks to ride my bike in pouring rain. My right knee has started hurting a little again, so I'm riding on an easier gear these days.

I also just missed the drug party in our building garage. I arrived just as the cops did their whole party pooper act and used handcuffs in the non-fun way on two of the party goers. Turns out our building garage is on the hot list of places to shoot up and party the night/life away in. Another benefit of biking to work: I'm never in the garage. I should add that to the list of benefits.

Tomorrow is my third interview for the Star Team.

Four Interviews And A Photo Shoot

I've been contemplating (not my navel) leaving my current job. Not because it's particularly awful. Lord knows I've had worse. It's just that I spend most of my time with little to nothing to do. To some people, having nothing to do probably sounds wonderful, and it was for a while but not anymore. Funny observation I've made along my professional way: the more you make, the less you have to work. I make more money now than I've ever made and I do far less than I've ever had to do.

So I stuck my toe in the water and got quite a few nibbles. I have four interviews lined up, but nothing is for sure yet. I may or may not stay where I am. Grass being/seeming greener and all that. Now, the grass might very well turn out to be greener, in which case I'm outta here.

First World Problem, you say? Yes, it does sound a bit like that, doesn't it. Pissing and moaning because I get paid a lot to do nothing. However, I hate not being busy. I need go be on the go and learn things. If I'm not mentally and physically challenged - just shoot me. In the face. And don't miss.

Cleaning toilets is a life long dream of mine! I'm so [something] I could die!

It's a hard knock life... but somebody's gotta do it (not me in the photo)

Speaking of photos, a few weeks ago I had some photos taken. The kind of photos one probably shouldn't post online unless one is seeking employment in the adult film industry. Well, I might be exaggerating a little because the photos aren't vulgar or anything. They are actually quite tasteful. At least I think they are. So why did I have this done? Relax, not planning a future in the other Silicon Valley. Needed a morale boost because I've been feeling a bit flabby lately.

If you've been contemplating doing boudoir, I know a great place. This gal does wonders with posing, lighting, and just making you feel at ease. Below are some of the photos from that session. Of me. Yes. 

Besides, it's not like I'm applying for a teaching job.

White Way To Delight

Sounds a little racist, ya? No, this isn't about some Donald Trump dream rally. It's a reference to one of my favorite books.

 

 

What does today's ride in have to do with Anne of Green Gable, you might ask. For one it was an excuse to include the best book/movie ever into this post. Secondly, this:



Today's commute was cold. Freezing, in fact. There was frost on the ground and a cocoon of fog at the top of the hill.

Cherry blossoms and a clean sidewalk, what more can a girl ask for?

Yes, I did bike on the sidewalk but do you see any pedestrians? I think not.

My gloves sucked balls but I'm not doing anything about it now since it's almost spring - well, technically it is already, and I don't feel like spending a Benjamin on new gloves. So for now I'll just have to live with frost bites. Small price to pay for being able to bike to work without getting drenched.

A thing I've noticed is that my legs don't have the same amount of strength from day to day. One day I'm fine biking up a hill on a lower gear and it doesn't bother me at all. The next day I can barely make it up the same hill in the granny gear. I suppose that's par for the course. Probably dependent on what I ate the day before, the amount of sleep I had, and then there's also the sun, the moon, and the tide - and whether Jupiter aligns with Mars.

Only a month to go until the insane thing I've committed to doing. There sure are days when I shake my head, thinking "what in the world am I doing!", but then I think it'll be a nice notch on my metaphorical bed post. And what a story to tell the grandchildren! If I live to tell the tale...

The other thing I mentioned yesterday? It's happening tomorrow.

Stop. Think. Be Terrified.

This isn't really what this blog is for, but I can't keep quiet anymore.



Haha! Funny!



Still hilarious!

Not so funny anymore

What's happening now in the political landscape is nothing short of terrifying. Sure, it was kinda funny in the beginning when no one thought the modern day Hitler stood a chance. Now it's not funny at all.

The Constitution limits the president's authority to make and repeal legislation, but the president and his appointees have enormous discretion over the enforcement of existing laws. Putting a leader who condones violence against the supporters of his political opponents in charge of the federal law enforcement apparatus is frightening; giving him the power to unilaterally issue pardons is terrifying.

I assumed that as we got closer to the Republican nomination, Trump would would tone down his extreme behavior in order to appeal to mainstream voters, or that he would no longer be in the race. Obviously none of the above happened. Not only is he still in the race, he is the strongest contender for a Republican nomination. And he hasn't toned down his behavior: he has done the opposite. This has truly scary implications for how he might behave were he to actually win the presidency, which shouldn't be discounted. After all, very few thought he'd get this far.



There are numerous things that should make Americans outright scared about a potential Trump presidency. It's not necessarily his narcissism and pompousness, nor his offensive and disgusting comments about women, minorities, and undocumented immigrants.

It's disturbing that someone with so little interest in the truth, who is happy to stoke xenophobic fires to advance his agenda, and who seems to have little cause other than the glorification of himself, has somehow persuaded so many that his presidency would make America great.



 

This mockery of a man should have been disqualified from even contemplating running for the highest office in this country. That being the pipe dream it is, there's something far more frightening than the reasons above that makes Trump such a danger to our country.

What scares me more than Donald Trump is the silent majority. He has empowered people to openly express hateful and bigoted behavior that in some cases has turned violent – and that’s the most dangerous thing of all.

I believe Martin Niemöller said it well:


A Blast From The Past

Remember how I was all drenched in melancholy last year around Halloween? Well, one should be careful what one wants for. He's back. Last I checked, my conjuring skills weren't very strong, so I doubt it was my wishful thinking that made him surface. Whatever it is that brought him back into my life, he's here.

So happy together...

When I say "here", I mean that we haven't actually met up yet. And I don't even know if I want to. Hell! Who am I kidding! Of course I want to meet him. I'm curious as all hell to see how he's been, what he looks like, how me smells... ugh! don't even get me started.

He always had a knack for timing, so it would only make sense that he should show up now when my marriage isn't exactly great. So there's that.

Completely unrelated, the bike ride in today was amazing. Cherry blossom galore and friendly drivers.



I can't decide whether I should be sad or glad every time I make it safely to my destination. It ought to be a given that I'm not risking death by pancake, but it's not. I guess it comes down to a risk-reward sort of thing. Kinda like this, but swap out crazy for risk and hot for health benefit.



That show was crazy good the first and second season. I stopped watching after that so I don't even know how he met their mother.

Contemplating One's Navel Only Gets A Person A Face Full Of Lint

I've been a bit of a Debbie Downer as of late, and that shit's gotta stop.

How you tell you're done contemplating your navel

This morning on my commute I was reminded of why I'm riding my bike instead of the car to work.

Paradise on earth

When I was younger I was an avid skier. Not downhill as much as cross country. I tell you, there's nothing quite like the feeling of calm and tranquility that hits you when there's nothing but you, crisp, white snow that go on for miles and miles, fresh, cool air that carries with it the smell of freedom. This morning's commute took me back to that place. The cool air that surrounded me as I was biking passed Bellevue College was almost exactly like that air from my childhood, and I was immediately calmer by about 50 degrees.

The rain has stopped for now, which makes for a much more enjoyable commute. I might even go for a ride this weekend. All though, my calendar is filling up quickly with life stuff.

I'm a thinker with a hint of an introvert and a dash of over analyzing and just a sprinkle of sarcasm. You didn't see that one coming, right? I'm a special donut. I have a tendency to think myself into a corner, which means I have to sit there until the thinking paint dries. Sometimes I only have to sit there for a short time, other times I remain in my corner for a good while. That all depends on what type of paint I used.

Seems I used the quick-drying kind this time around, and besides contemplating my navel only gets my face full of lint.

The home situation is what it is for now and thank you for valuable input. Here's a selection:




Dan

 

Chuckle

Josh

Mark

Afte I've had a good think, I feel like this scene from Love Actually, when you've said what you have to say and no matter what the outcome, you are ok with it.

The Ins And Outs Of Marriage And Priorities

Seems I'm in a lonely boat. Not lonely in the sense that I am the only one in the world who's in this situation, but lonely in the sense that the roles usually are reversed. This doesn't make it less of a problem, though.

But if there's one thing being married has taught me, it's this: you can't make other people do what you want. You may want them to exercise and eat healthy but they won't always do it. You may even want them to, say, pick up their dirty socks or stop leaving 1,000 pairs of shoes by the door, but they won't do that either (not that I'm talking about anyone in particular). For some reason, these people we get involved with tend to make their own decisions. And that's part of the problem.

Lies!

About a year ago hubby expressed a desire to get in better shape. I thought it was a good idea and wanted to be supportive so I did it too. However, we chose different means to achieve said goal - he started going to the gym, I took up road biking. I've stuck with it for the past year and, started to compete in cycling events, and have commuted to work by bike ever since. He stuck with the gym for about three days and then went back to his old habits.

He has gained about 50 pounds over the past few years.

I've been trying to get him to bike with me, and we did bike together for a while - until the weather got cold and wet.



Look, I realize that the problem might be mostly mine. I'll admit that I'm a little... obsessed with biking. I love biking so much and I think that's affecting my brain to not being able to comprehend why other people might not love biking as much as I do. When it comes to biking, my husband and I aren't exactly bike compatible. I love – and live – to ride. Hubby? Not so much.

Me

Hubby

It's not all bad. Hubby has been very supportive of my biking and hasn't complained - even once - about the bike expenses. Tom Hardy was a birthday present from hubby purchased by me, but that was for practical reasons. A bike is a very personal thing, like buying a bra, where no one size fits all.

So yeah, at first glance this sounds a bit like a First World Problem, but here's where the rubber meets the road:

I'm not proud of my feelings, but I'm just not as attracted to him physically anymore because he is overweight. I'm also not attracted to him mentally because he isn't even trying and I'm frustrated with his lack of determination. I don't know what to do. Many people say to continue to be a good example and it will rub off on him... but that's clearly not working for hubby. I don't pressure or nag him to eat right or exercise but I do try to include him and ask him if he wants to go to biking. For the time being, it's just a thought and nothing actionable.

How Maslow Stole My Husband

Ultimate nerd cave
Beam me up, Scotty!

If you want the nerd cave above, you can buy it here. Believe it or not, it's for sale.

The 27,000-square-foot home is overflowing with boldly themed rooms and entertaining areas, including a home theatre modeled after the bridge of Star Trek’s USS Enterprise, complete with signature “woosh” sound when someone enters through the door.

I wrote about hubby's man cave a while back. While he hasn't played much Magic lately, I hardly see him anymore because the cave apparently is so cozy and perfect that he doesn't need to come out. Ever again. The cave covers all of Maslow's needs. All the way up to the top.


1. Biological and Physiological needs - air, food, drink, shelter, warmth, sex, sleep.

2. Safety needs - protection from elements, security, order, law, stability, freedom from fear.

3. Love and belongingness needs - friendship, intimacy, affection and love, - from work group, family, friends, romantic relationships.

4. Esteem needs - achievement, mastery, independence, status, dominance, prestige, self-respect, respect from others.

5. Self-Actualization needs - realizing personal potential, self-fulfillment, seeking personal growth and peak experiences.

How the man cave covers hubby's needs:

1. Given that he has internet and cable in the cave, the sex part is easily covered. The other items are obviously covered.
2. Yeah, that's also covered.
3. This one is a little trickier, but I'm sure the internet can cover this one as well.
4. Winning the online battle and protecting the world from the kid next door will cover this one.
5. Between the internet and the cable, this one is covered as well.

If the weather was nicer, I most likely wouldn't notice his absence as I would be out biking. However, the weather thing is currently in the wishes-fishes category so I'm starting to feel slightly less humorous about it and more annoyed.



How much gaming can a person do?!?!?

This is our evenings:

Hubby usually comes home before me because it takes me an hour or so to bike home. We have dinner, then he does his vanishing act right after. Last night I felt myself getting annoyed so I sulked in silence downstairs, then after having had various dialogs/monologues with myself in my head, riling myself up to how I was justifiably insulted, then I stomped upstairs, opened the door to the cave and announced that I was going to bed. Very mature, I know.

This morning I gave hubby the silent treatment as we prepared to leave for work.

But I guess I made my bed, resulting in having to lay in my non-metaphorical version alone. I encouraged him to have a space that's all his, I even found it endearing. I'll admit I might have had some ulterior motive, thinking ahead of all the weekends I will be gone biking. But those weekends are still far, far away, and meanwhile there's no hubby to be seen. Is being a man-cave widow a thing?

So now I'm going to bed alone.



I suppose there's always Channing or Tom.