Public Service Announcement

Even if it feels likes a good idea, do not yell out your car window at a cyclist for no reason. Especially if you are the only person in the car. Who are you trying to impress, dude? And it's not even like you're actually saying anything. Sometimes its just a yelp or a bark. Are you serious? You look like a tool.

That's all.

Everybody's workin' for the week end.

I wake up around 6:45 to the alarm clock on my phone. Usually it only takes the one time, but once in a while I let it go to 7, but then it's awake awake awake. I take a shower, wash my face. I hum "You are my sunshine" as I brush my teeth. I put my lunch together. It's an apple, a yogurt, a boca burger, and a granola bar. I grab my helmet and then it's off to work. Up the first hill down Old Bainbridge, through midtown until I reach my coffee shop. I get an espresso and up until recently, a morning glory muffin. I sit and read the paper. I do the crossword. I watch the people. I get back on the bike and finish the journey to the kitchen. It's 8:15. I clock in, put my apron on, and turn the radio to the oldies station. D brews the coffee, I get my list out and check off what needs to be done. I measure the flour, the butter, the salt, the baking soda, the butter milk, and voila! Biscuit dough. I go through my day baking off chocolate cakes or bread puddings. I spin sugar and roll tuilles. I listen to the Righteous Brothers and sing out loud. Status Saturn of Tallahassee comes on with their commercial and D and I both make fun of it. Last time I checked, when I make that million dollar deposit, I won't be buying a Vue. It always ends with "333 look at me" and giggling. Jim Ode comes in with his mushrooms (legal kind) and his grateful dead t-shirt. Crescent moon farms brings in some basil and heirloom tomatoes. I finish up and clean my station. My lunch is there, along with a magazine and a bar stool. The library is next. Then the swimming pool where I race whoever is next to me in a new and twisted version of "Treadmill Racing!!!" Please note that whoever is in the next lane, they have no idea that I am racing them and it comes as a suprise whenever they get out of the water and I have a look of victory on my face. I bike back home, maybe make dinner, maybe employ the microwave. I watch a movie with the directors commentary on or go out with some friends. I'm in bed by 11. Asleep by 11:20. And then it's 6:45.

We are not perfect, but we sure try.

I remember the last time I saw it, all lit up with a breeze and a little boozed up. I used to eat my lunch in front of the Alamo, once in a while I'd take a picture for a tourist but for the most part it was just me and my sandwich defending my post. Dustin and I walked the four or so blocks to our bench and sat down as a group of teenagers posed in front of the plaque and a bachelorette party drunkenly stumbled over the cobblestone threshold to American history and lore. It was my last night in San Antonio and I was saying goodbye to the city that gave me so much and took so much away. Everything changes, especially us. And now that I'm home, and the smells of fresh cut grass and overwhelming humidity surround my every move, it seems easier to look back on it all. I do a lot of that. I think about how much I've changed. I think about the people I was fortunate enough to meet. I think about Dustin and how much I miss him. And I remember the Alamo.