wake up call
Rubber pants, here I come
Like many of you, I bike to work. Unlike many of you, I’m a moron. I’m admittedly new to this whole bike-as-main-form-of-transport thing, but I figured that once the rains came, I could pretty much proceed as I had been. In a t-shirt, a windbreaker, tennis shoes, and jeans. "Wear some waterproof pants," my ladyfriend said. "Lame," I responded. So now, at 10:30 on a Monday morning I’m sitting here in my office and everything below my waist is soaked. It looks, in short, like I peed myself. And no amount of coffee is warming my frozen extremities.
The lesson, as always? I’m an idiot.
Rubber pants, here I come.