Wednesday night after rehearsal was really pleasant. A dreary, occasionally passive aggressive fight rehearsal had just ended. I walked outside and the rainstorm, that had just ended, had made the weather pleasant. And a little cooler. The previous 48 hours had been pretty sweltering. I was now looking forward to a relaxing, stress-free bike ride home with absolutely no pressures.
Less than a minute into my ride I had caught up with another cyclist - a gentleman about a decade older than me, dressed like a wannabe Lance Armstrong (on a budget). He was moving at a nice clip for a guy his age, but still too slow for me. Still not-in-a-hurry, I hung back anyway, enjoying the night air.
But after another two minutes of this, I had to pass him. He was moving just a little too slowly for me and I didn't feel like shadowing him indefinitely. So, moving at a reasonable speed (and not a lunatic like some cyclists do), and giving him reasonable space I passed him on his left (passing a fellow cyclist on the right hand side is kind of a dick move).
Within ten seconds I could see the reflection of his front bike light jiggling furiously up and down on the asphalt in front of me. His gears had speeded up suddenly. Really?, I thought.
Yeah. I heard him grumble something. I couldn't make out the words, but they were definitely unfavorable. He gave me the fish eye as he passed me. On the right hand side.
What the hell?
I called him a passive aggresive douchebag, and as I turned onto a side street to continue my trip home, I sarcastically shouted,"Thanks for sharing the road!" while waving. He whipped his head right and left in a hyper defensive posture at that.
I just don't understand some of the cyclists in this city, where everything has to be a race or an occasion to one-up another. If he thought he was making me feel put in my place by his act he was wrong. It just soured the rest of what I initially wanted to be the pleasant act of riding my two-wheeler home. Because all I could think about on the rest of the journey was that one toolbag.
Which seems like a somewhat apt analogy to my relationship with livejournal these days. It's just not fun anymore. To be honest, I haven't really enjoyed it in months.And I think it shows. Entries posted just so I can say I posted something that day.
Also, let's face it livejournal itself is mostly awful these days. The loading time, posts being lost, russian spambots. I know I made a comment before about how it seems silly to be complaining about something I get for free, but the aggravation ain't worth it, man. If something stops being fun, stop doing it. You're just wasting time.
I think a co-worker (or co-workers) have found and lurk here. One day...ooohhh, about 2+ years ago one turned to me and said (obviously paraphrasing here)," Hey, didn't you say that (NOUN) (TRANSITIVE VERBED) (PREPOSITION) (ADJECTIVE) (NOUN) once?"
I did a mental double-take as - outwardly - I tried to show no surprise at his/her comment and answered,"...Yeah." while, inwardly, thinking, I am only 30% certain I said that out loud, but I am 100% sure I blogged about that. THIS is why I haven't blogged about work for years.
Now. I don't have anything against any of my co-workers (coughmeaculpacough), but I don't write on this livejournal for them. I write on it for my lj peeps and non-lj-but-still-on-the-internet homies. I am somewhat weary of having to constantly edit what I'm saying because of what someone who doesn't post here, but nonetheless who could be sitting a few yards away from me Monday through Friday reads here anyway. Most of the fault is mine for not adequately covering my internet tracks, but still, thanks anyway, co-worker, for tainting this for me!
I will still stick around cuz I still like reading what you guys have to say (although I'll probably be deleting my communities to make the friends page more manageable), but as far as journal entries go, I'm done.*
One more for the road!
Officer Down, by Theresa Schwegel (2005)
*Disclaimer, because I'm a big fat liar, I may decide to do the blog thing again (cuz I'm a liar), but if I do, it WON'T be on fucking facebook.