Too Bleary to Even Bother With A Photo

Beautiful sunset on the way home tonight (unfortunately I had no camera), but it didn't make much of a dent in the sense that this has been what Boywich would call a craptacular week. Lowlights include being shaken awake every morning by Richter-scale vibrations from the pile-drivers operating a mere 10 ft. or so below my windows. Not to mention having yet another tube blow its bitty little cork just as I was pumping the last tire preparatory to leaving on a ride.

So my ride ended up being to the bike shop, to buy more tubes (and complain about them having weak-ass valve stem connections). And to top that off, my favorite redheads were not even there, nor was the nice girl I usually talk to, nor was her cute puppy. Drat.

Ugh. I am exhausted, sick at heart, sleep-deprived (construction starts early, and I keep having to work all night because I can't focus all day with that horrible, horrible noise and the whole building shuddering to bits around my ears), and generally demoralized.

I couldn't even get it up to think that the friend of a friend's invitation to go for a bike ride (he just bought a new bike) might have an ulterior motive in it, even though I had at one time found him to be very cute. It all seemed very likely that a bike ride is just a bike ride, and even if it's not, he's probably not a good person to date, being, by all accounts, something of a solitary reclusive type. Interesting, but maybe best appreciated from a safe distance.

Which I am beginning to think is true of all men.