HTFU, you Pussy.
On the very wet journey into work today (Auckland is under dark skies, wind, and sideways rain) I realised that I'm soft.
I've been riding most days (in fact I'm riding about 4 out of 5 days), but wet days pose a problem in terms of turning up to client meetings dripping...
But, and here's the admission, as I watched bike after bike zip past, it was actually kind of nice to be able to adjust the temperature, and it was kind of neat not having to think "road surface change, is that guy going to pull out, where's my escape route, can I wheelstand here, nice legs on her, where's my turn in point, where's my braking marker"...
Instead I was listening to Toni Childs in my head (it took me about half the journey to recall I had a stereo, and given the boredom that was fast setting in, that was kind of useful).
So, I need to HTFU right? Grow some balls? Be a man? 
Well, let me explain, that "nice" sensation lasted about 1.2 kilometers. And as I sat in traffic wondering why everyone was driving so fucking slow, all I could do was watch the bikes zip past and wish I was with them... Tomorrow, I'm going to be visiting clients, and their reception areas are getting wet...
It’s diametrically opposed to the sanitised existence of the Lemmings around me in the Dilbert Cartoon hell I live in; it’s life at full volume, perfect colour with high resolution and 10,000 watts of amplification.
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