Busy Going Nowhere
I've been twiddling my thumbs through much of this week – wondering what to do with myself. I over-estimated a piece of work that I'm scheduled on, so have had the chance – for the first time in years – to actually take my time, and not rush like a lunatic. Who knew that thinking about what you're doing would help at all?
The cycle into work this morning wascold. I looked at the weather on my phone when I woke up, and saw some sort “minus a lot” figure – my ears can pretty much verify that. I don't think I can remember my ears beingthat cold on the way to work in years. It wasn't quite “snap off” cold, but it was “I can feel earache starting deep inside my ear” cold. I did think about wearing a beany hat instead of my bike helmet (which would have covered my ears), but I'm too much of a Dudley Dooright to do anything like that.
I see some crazy things while cycling to and from the office each day – some of the most thoughtless (and downright stupid) driving, and some of the most idiotic people on bikes. I think the most common thing that really winds me up is people cycling on the footpath, in the dark, with no lights, and no helmet on. Invariably it's old people too – who should know better. I once challenged an old lady riding a shopping bike along the footpath I was walking along, and she came out with a stream of swearing at me. She could probably have used her battleship hairdo as a weapon to head-butt me with – it had enough hair spray on it to withstand hurricane strength winds (which was kind of ironic, as her top speed on the bike seemed to be a little faster than walking pace).
The best thing car drivers do – and this happens almost every day – is pretend I aminvisible. It's worth noting that I am 6' 4”, wear a day-glo orange waterproof jacket on the bike, have reflective strips on my helmet, and have powerful lights on the bike too. It's not that they “don't notice me” – it's that they deliberately ignore me.I have been cut up, or forced off the road more times than I can remember. Some people would probably react, shout abuse, or hit the vehicle in question – my survival instincts seem to be more concerned with saving my own skin than making a big song and dance about it. I of course continue on my way thinking up all the things I should have said, or done.
Anyway... it's lunchtime. Time to eat the rather sorry lookingsandwich I made in a hurry this morning.