Sometimes I feel something

Thanksgiving came a week later than usual, or so I've been told.  I'm not one to pay attention to much more than where I put my feet whilst perambulating.  Wherever on the calendar "they" decide to put the holiday, it doesn't matter because I still missed whatever day would mark the 17th anniversary of the first day I carried a package as an (un)professional cyclist.

I only had two days of training with Kevin Thompson.  All I can remember from that time was Kevin doing a little wall ride thing down in front of the Duke Power building and me stupidly hopping in the same quarter section of the swirly doors of the (then) Nations Bank building.

If you never jump into the same swirly door right behind someone you don't really know, you'll never experience the awkwardness that is shuffling along with your new Siamese twin until you are released from the portal prison.  I'm sure Kevin was quite pleased with his rookie's performance.

Kevin quit that weekend, and I got the call to come in and take his place.  Something like that... I can't remember.  Having only lived in Charlotte for a little over two months, it was a bit intimidating and confusing.  North, South, East, West, odd numbers and even... there's a 24 block difference between 1200 East and West Morehead and figuring out that I went the wrong way when I got to an address that didn't exist? Suxors.

Memory lane.

After a day like yesterday, which was not as bad as they said it would be, I thought about doing a post about tips and tricks for handling sloggy days in cold weather.  Then I realized that most of the tips would only be of any use to a messenger and that we're such a small sub-segment of the cycling population... why bother?

I will admit the worst part of it all is the ride home... especially this time of year.  I get off at 5:00PM, and when the rain is really coming down, it's pretty much dark as night.  Yesterday, the heavy stuff waited until I got off work to start coming down.  Super.

Sun gone, rainy, and out in it with people in cars who are just getting used to their drive home getting darker.  Add to that, the holiday stupor everyone seems to be in, and I have to be über cautious.  All I wanna do is bust-ass home and get into a hot shower with a cold beer, and I actually have to slow down and spend even more time getting soaked.

As soon as I walk in the door, I get started on one of the few work related tasks I don't get paid for:

Wet shit all over the floor eventually becomes wet shit hanging on the handlebars and seats of all the bikes up on the wall.  It's all a part of the glamor of the job.

Despite dealing with occasional inconvenient moisture related issues, I love my job.  It's a great fit, and I'm thankful that I am still doing it all these years later.  I did walk away from the job after my first ten months to pursue something a little more "grown up" or "real."  One month unemployed, two and a half months unhappy in management, and two weeks serving my notice before I was right back where I belong.  I'm glad I had that hiccup in my job record to see how much I didn't want to do anything else for a living.

Thankful that I feel thankful about my job.

Happy holiday and all that. See you Monday.