Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Forgotten Lock and Dorky Clothes

I forgot my bike lock today. I am swapping my bike tomorrow for Anne's road bike (happy, happy me!) so I decided to fix the brakes. [it is fine for me to ride on bad brakes, but I don't want to make that decision for anyone else]. So I tightened the rear brake and cleaned/oiled the cables--the section under the housing was quite rusty. While doing this I took my lock off of my handlebars and hung it on a doorknob, where it stayed all day long.

Normally this wouldn't be a big deal, because the front desk person likes me and let me sneak my bike in before. Today the building manager was there and he gave me a really hard time. I explained that I forgot my lock and wasn't planning on making a habit out of this, but he didn't get it and kept lecturing that 'bikes aren't allowed in the building.' Well today mine was. Dumbass.

Unfortunately, today I also had to go to Federal Court--usually I ride my bike there, but today I had to walk. The client will be billed $85 for the time I spent walking to court. What a waste.

I saw a ton of riders--mostly messengers--and only one of them was a girl. I also heard a rider cursing a vehicle. In a glance I figured out that the car passed the guy only to dangerously cut him off to park. I stopped to give the driver a dirty look, call him an asshole and flip him off--he looked really confused. Too bad I didn't have time to have a conversation with him.

Something dawned on me today: I dress like a dork. Since laundry was done I had a plentitude of clothes to pick from today. Favorite, comfortable shirt. Favorite shapeless, stretchy too-big skirt. Favorite tights. Woo hoo--Except for the fact that just because they are my favorite articles doesn't mean they look good together! This is how four year-olds pick out their clothing. When I pack my clothes in the morning I often times forget toconsider how they will look together and instead focus mainly on comfort and functionality.

The vast majority of workdays I look dorky. Many of my clothes are hand-me-downs: too short, too big, out of style or just plain ill-fitting. I usually don't care, unless I have a meeting with clients. "Good enough" is the bar that I strain to reach. I just can't imagine putting the time or money into dressing well everyday. So instead, I obliviously walk around looking like a dork. The 'gives a shit' gene that most women have about their appearance seems to be missing from my DNA. Sleeping in later or reading the paper is much preferable to primping every morning.

So that was my day: I dress like a dork and can't even remember to bring a lock for my bike.


At 1:51 AM, Blogger Frick said...

I don't understand? Is there something wrong with this?


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