How Climacteric Is On A Sliding Scale

Last night I did a quick check of my bank account. I shouldn't have. The last time my account was this empty was after I tried helping that poor business man from Nigeria.

I almost called 911 but saner heads prevailed as the memories of purchasing the Cascade season pass and other bike related "necessities" came into focus. Good lord, I've spent a TON of money, but after doing a quick think it became very clear that my purchases were more than justified, if not to say climacteric. I mean, you can't put a price on happiness and health. (Ok, so the US government and Medicare are trying their best to do just that.) Also, by not driving to work in my car, I am saving the world, doing my bit to stop the ice from melting and drowning us all.

You're welcome.

I've also heard that biking makes a person calmer - something that's a work in progress and really I'm not sure biking has that effect on me, but it can't hurt. But for some reason I seem to have become angrier after I started biking. Perhaps that's the bike version of road rage, or maybe it's my body producing rage fuel to keep me pedaling. There's a lot of fuel in anger. True story, famous people.


In case I have to justify my bike expenses

Fatalistic, but still an excellent reason

At least I'm not spending money on filo.

Almost

One of my friends talks about spending all of his weekly bonus money on filo and I was all “That’s awesome.” Because I love pastries. And it’s relieving for me to know that I’m not the only one buying impulse carbs but then this week he was all “Like the new jacket? It’s filo.” And I was all “How are they making jackets out of pastry dough? Is this like when hemp wasn’t just for smoking anymore? Because I’m confused.” Then my friend was all “No. FILA, dumbass. It’s a brand name. You thought I was spending all my extra money on pastry?” and yeah, I did. Because that's the world I want to live in!

Also, now I’m hungry for filo.

Fuck.

To divert my thoughts from filo and spending (too much) money on bikes, here's a story about making beds.

Bugs, you said?

Me: You know when you’re making the bed but the cat jumps up on it and you keep pushing him off but he jumps back up because he thinks you’re playing a game with him and he’s pouncing on all the wrinkles you’re smoothing away and finally you decide to teach the little bastard a lesson and so you just pull the comforter over the cat so he’ll see why he shouldn’t get in your way and you stare expectantly at the lump of cat in the middle of the bed, but it doesn’t move so you wait longer and it still doesn’t move and you suddenly suspect that maybe you’ve suffocated him and that you’ll have to explain to your vet that you watched your cat smother because you were trying to teach it a lesson? About beds, I mean. Not about smothering. And then you lift up the cover tentatively and your cat stares at you like, “What? What do you want?” And so you’re like “Fine. Be that way.” And you put the covers on again and walk out angrily, but then an hour later you come back and the cat lump is still there and you think, “Shit. This time I’ve really done it. There’s a lump of dead cat in there.” But then you take a deep breath and lift up the cover and the cat looks exactly the same (except maybe squintier) and you realize that he’s playing the long game and that you’re never going to be able to relax with him under there so you give up and pull the cat out and he goes limp and looks at you like, “I don’t know why you’re mad at me. You did this. I was just laying under the covers. Because that’s what you seem to have wanted. I just want to please you.” And you’re not falling for your cat’s sarcasm because that’s how they win, so you just give up and drop the cat on the floor, and then you start to remake the bed and the cat jumps under the covers again and is like” HA! I was just fucking with you. This bed is mine, bitch.” And then you just scream “Fuck this” and then you jump onto the bed and start kicking around and crawling under the sheets and frantically shoving your hands under the pillows so that you can show your cat exactly how ridiculous it looks, but then another cat walks in the room and he’s like “What are you doing? IS THERE A BUG IN THERE?” and then he jumps up and starts frantically sticking his paws under the pillows too and looking up at you for guidance and then you feel guilty for giving him false bug-hope and so you just give up and walk away?

Hubby: I’ll give you a dollar to stop talking.

Me: You asked me why the bed was all messy.

Hubby: My bad.