You think we're dancing? ... That's all we've ever done.


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(diaryland) March 24, 2017 - 10:02 a.m.

I'm back at my old work for a week, kind of as a tourist. That's why suddenly I am capable of making two diary entries in the same week.

I hope I can find some way of updating my diary at my new work, because the amount of fodder for entries has remained strong, but the right time to enter them into the internet has been weak.

I started cycling to work from the train station a few months ago, on a ten-y-o folding bike I extricated from the shed. It turned out that that took the exact same amount of time to get to work as being stuck in traffic in a car.

It was great until one day, the bike exploded on the way back from the office. It's like it couldn't cope with being unfolded.

I admit, it was being held together by one cable tie. But I didn't expect several metal parts to rip apart when the whole thing came crashing down.

I survived the incident because the bike chose to fall apart in a backstreet instead of ten minutes later on a main road. Which was great. But my favourite jeans and my mood had huge holes torn in them.

I called my parents. I said, through tears, "Come and pick me up! Please!"

They said they would, and that the best way to go would be down Princes Highway.

I said no way. Please, please don't go down Princes Highway.

They said it would be the fastest.

I said it would take ages.

They did, and it did. I waited an hour and a half on a street corner with a bunch of twisted metal. After a day when my boss asked me to work more hours for zero more pay, it just added to the crap feeling.

I got a new bike now, though. A real bike with a known brand name a real sized wheels. I now don't have to embarrassingly walk my bike up hills anymore. Sometimes when I ride, I can even hear the air going by.

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