I hate Fridays! I really do.
First, my routine gets thrown off as there isn't a 5:55 bus, but rather only a 6:00 bus.
Of course, the bus is packed with both the normal 5:55 riders and the 6:00 AM riders.
Not a huge deal, but there's this couple who ride every day - a couple who, between the two of them take up three seats. Nothing against that, as I am a big guy myself - 6'1" and 260+ - However, I had my seat firmly established, get the bike on the bus, and then spend the next 40 minutes being squished into the wheel well by wife of couple who decides when someone else takes a seat by her in her original seat to move to the three seat bank between her husband and I. Again, no biggie. The bus was packed. I am just really uncomfortable when a large woman comes and sits next to me and her arse spills over the seat and onto my seat, making me need to compress myself as small as possible just to remain seated and not rubbing my own arse into hers. But, this is likely just me being grouchy as my morning routine was already out of whack with the whole bus being five minutes later so deciding that somehow sleeping in an extra twenty minutes would be a good thing thing.
So, we get about half way to Anchorage and it starts raining. My rain jacket is back home. In my bedroom. In the basket of winter bike clothes.
I don't mind getting wet, but it's chilly this morning and cold rain is never fun.
So, the weekend is nearly here. I'm looking forward to it. No plans other than to do some fishing and some bike maintenance. I'm sure the two days'll be packed to the rafters with little chores to get done, but, to be honest, I'd much rather do that than be stuck in an office any day of the week. Only a few more hours that my bike'll be stuck outside, waiting for me to hop on and ride into the sunset. Portly, ain't he?