Spokes, damn it!

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Writers are always insisting to other writers that they must rant-write every single day and, for some unknown reason, this must be done in the mornings as soon as they wake up.

Why though?  That seems so stupid – my thoughts are barely comprehensible when I first wake up in the mornings.  I must have had a dozen more interesting thoughts while I was cleaning my bike today than when I scrambled into consciousness in my first waking hours of the day!  Such fascinating bike-cleaning-related thoughts as “Why isn’t this getting any cleaner?”, “Ohmygawd it’s cold!” or “Jeez, there are a lotta parts to a bike that need cleaning… who knew?!”

I got right into all the unknown bike joints and gaps that I had hoped to never encounter; I even tried to work on the spokes, damn it!  Don’t ask me how I know that word, ‘spokes’.  I have no recollection of learning it and I definitely didn’t know it in my pre-bike-owning days, but nevertheless it now sits in my brain with other bike trivia that has somehow filtered through.

I hope my bike maintenance, or lack thereof, is no indication of how I will be as a mother, because that thing was FILTHY and I’d rather my child be nice and clean, and in perfect working condition with no punctures in her legs.  I say ‘her’ with great optimism.  I’d probably fuck up a lot quicker with a boy.

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