Couple kinds of stupid operative in the last few days.
Top of the heap, way ahead of the rest is my killing of the laptop keyboard with beer. Spilling it in the first place was stupid, driving it deep into the internals by ineffectually stabbing at the keys with a paper towel was also stupid. So, now I can feel stupid typing on a $2 Dell keyboard balanced on the laptop keyboard.
M is the opposite of stupid, however, for thinking of fixing the problem with a thrift store run.
Little bit of flare in them drops, eh?
Also stupid is the upcoming Rim Ride, but more in the category of existential idiocy. I work five days a week with kids who are institutionalized for spending hours every day obsessing of creative ways to hurt themselves.
Moving away from stupid, M just drove off to work in Suiby. The new fuel filter obviously did the trick, and she’ll soon post picks of just how gummed up the old one was after a week. She does exceedingly well with things when she put her nose to the grindstone, and I am looking forward to being demoted to #2 car mechanic in the house. The car still isn’t registered, and she’s headed out through rush hour traffic and lots of cops, so that might be sorta stupid.
My evening looks like lots of sitting around, though I need to run to the store and purchase food for tomorrow’s Sedona AZSF (Arizona Spring Fling) ride. It’ll be hot, with lots of hanging out, and therefore a good test of the full Rim Ride kit. Luckily, my Patagonia Endurance Pack carries 20 pounds over technical terrain very well.
I’m also curious as to how many folks will show up for my Sunday ride her in town. A lot would be cool, but 4 would also be nice. In the end, the summeresque weather is far too nice (not too hot at 5k) to do anything but enjoy being outside.
And capping the indignation, I have a brutal four day work week on tap, and Thursday afternoon get to make the biweekly Utah visit. I want to do some canyoneering Friday, but have yet to decide how much I want to stress my system before the Rim Ride. Given the good conditions sure to exist, I imagine I’ll say fuckit and do exactly what I want. Larry? Or perhaps a West Cheesebox?
Yeah, life remains oh so harsh.
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