Dear body: chalk white is *not* my colour
There are days, I'm convinced there is some malevolent force somewhere in the universe who's only goal is to annoy me.
How else could one explain my saddle suddenly falling of while I'm biking?
No warning, not even the little 'Oh, fuck!' moment of realization that a crash is unavoidable.
Suddenly I was just flying through the air and hitting the ground.
Ouch.
And after I'd picked myself up again and collected all parts, my body decides that this was a shock great enough to warrant a getting-weak-knees-better-get-some-blood-to-your-brain-lest-you-keel-over reaction.
Yes, I'm the weird person lying on the wet ground in the forest at 5:15, feet propped up on a bike without saddle, using a helmet as cushion and holding a dog on a leash.
So now I've got:- One frustrated dog who wasn't allowed to run as much as he wanted
- One pair of trousers, which I fear is beyond repair
- One bloodied knee (how old am I anyway? Five? At least I'm getting better at not touching the ground with my face)
- Thighs with various bruises
- One bike without saddle
But most importantly I've got an excuse not to go to uni this morning, because I need to buy the stuff to repair the bike. It has nothing to do with the fact that there is a chance my PotC DVD will arrive today. No. I'd never even think about such a thing.
