A quickie

I kept wanting to post something soft and introspective, to show how I was settling down nicely on the couch and recuperating (ha!), but the truth is, I have been champing at the bit, frustrated and furious as a racehorse who doesn't understand why it can't simply get up and run, dammit.

Last night I went for my first (tiny) ride in a while. I just toodled over to a park and did a single lap, down through the crowds of aimless pedestrians and up the one biggish hill, and back home again. I got hit in the face by a cloud of gnats. I had to wiggle through a lot of obstacles on feet, tires, and skates. I was a little lonely.

I got much too sweaty and out of breath for what it was. But I woke up this morning feeling quite a bit better than I have in a while.

That's not to say I am all better, or even that I am justified in thinking I can hop on bike number-three and whoosh into town and back, as I'm about to do when I leave you lovely people.

But it brings home to me the importance of hope, and of feeling like things are right with one's world, in the getting-better process. Either that or it's the caffeine talking (hello espresso, I love you).