Senior moments

Hump Day started off weird.  After dropping my things off at the rec center on campus, I rode out Oak Creek towards Dimple Hill.  Either I was in the zone, intensely focused, or uncaffeinated, but I had my first senior moment of the day.  Apparently Heather saw me on her way into work (honked, waved, flashed lights at me), and I never acknowledged.  I only had time for a short loop, up Dimple, down Dan's to the Bumper and 29th Street.  I got to bomb down Lower Dan's Trail for perhaps the last time this season (as soon as it gets "significantly" muddy the trail is closed to the two-wheeled... and it will be significantly muddy after this week-end).

Just as I was getting to the road, my front tire blew out.  Here I had senior moments two and three: No tire levers with which to get tire off wheel (I jimmied it with cold fingers and a flathead screwdriver).  And then, my chosen tube had a Schrader valve instead of a Presta valve (the valve was too big for the hole... I've heard that one before). Slapped the tire back on the wheel and rode slowly tubeless the three miles back to the gym. 

Now late for work, I splashed myself with water, got dressed, packed everything up... and realized (senior moments four and five... technically, these occurred before the bike ride) I forgot both my coat and my shoes.  I slipped on my muddy cycling shoes and shivered my way into work.

Work went okay for the most part.  I did some reading, answered some e-mails and set-up to finish off an experiment.  Because I was late, I didn't have time to get my coffee (majorly bad mistake).  Then I had the senior moment to end all senior moments.  I won't go into it.  But, if what I was feeling could have been manifested into actions, you would hear a large amount of "jargon", spitting, and hair-pulling, ending with me in a mushy puddle of tears on the floor.

Instead, I sat back, did some thinking, contacted everyone that would be affected, jotted down a few scenarios to fix the problem, and ended the day with a little liquid perspective as any responsible self-respecting 20-something would do... because after all, I am not a senior citizen yet.

The author would like to add a personal note that was added as an addendum following the publishing of this post:

Perspective sometimes comes with five olives:

Addendum to addendum:

Perspective occasionally comes with six olives (apparently I can't count either).