{August 3, 2011}   Forgetting to land

According to the Hitchiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, the trick to flying is a) fall and b) forget to land. Lately I’ve been excelling at column A and failing miserably at column B.  My day started with a leisurely pre-work ride to the clinic courtesy of my brother.  Dopeman and the Skank graciously allowed me to throw “their” bike in the bed of my brother’s truck, as my riding home from work at one A.M. saves them the ten dollars I usually need for a cab.  (“More money for smack-yippee!!!”  squeals Skank, jumping up and down while clapping.  Nah, not really, but she did open her eyes halfway and mumble “yeah….take the bike…baby can I get some morezzzzzzzzzzzzz…..”)  Now don’t get me wrong, as my car does not exist, my heart wells with gratuitude so strong it’s almost painful when someone is kind enough to offer me a ride.  That said, hopping in the truck with my brother after his third day of no food or sleep and lots and lots of methamphetamine is taking my life in my own (or his extremely shaky) hands.  We’re flying down the freeway, weaving in and out of those assholes who can’t be bothered to drive more than fifteen miles over the speed limit when the phone rings.  I grab the wheel, my brother starts crying and punching things and we pull over asap. Turns out his seretonin, nutrient and sleep deprived brain was not capable of both driving and processing the bad news on the other end of the phone.  So I’m stranded downtown with fifteen minutes to bike my ass to work before my ass has no work to go to.  (I’ve been in the doghouse hardocore with the boss man lately.)  Oh man.  I biked like I have never biked before; through construction, past pedestrians, hopping curbs, blowing through red lights.  I was freaking amazing!  Then,  a block away from my work, stopped at a red light, I lose my balance and fucking tip over.  Bike lands on top of me, HEAVY-ass messenger bag lands on top of bike, and I unleash a torrent of invective so vile I’m surprised the old lady nearby was  brave enough to ask if I was okay.  So yeah.  I need to learn to forget to land. Two stupid bailouts in two stupid days.  At this rate I’ll be in traction before the summer’s over.  At least I made it to work on time….


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