When Commitment Becomes Insanity

Mmmm…commitment. Or a complete lack thereof. I’m not really sure…you be the judge:

It is still very much winter where I live. Now, winter here means we can get two feet of snow in an afternoon then have temps in the fifties for the next week. I have, quite literally, gone skiing in shorts and a sweatshirt since I moved here.

That being said, I do have my limits.

I’m still trying to be a good boy and ride my bike as much as possible.  It feels good, it’s healthy, and hey, I can confuse all the Prius drivers by riding like a “civilized” person then go off and tear up the countryside in a 4×4…

At any rate, back to riding. It’s supposed to be in the forties today. Supposed to be.

I’m tough, I can ride in that. C’mon – some gloves, a decent fleece…how hard can it be?

I made it two miles.

Holy shit it’s cold. “Walking in a Winter Wonderlond” my ass – I’m ready for some global warming right fucking now!

My fleece might as well be made from used paper towels. My gloves are, well, back at home. And my, err, “nether regions” have run away to hide somewhere warm. I hope they come back some day.

Soooo, either I’m committed because I decided to go for ride in the face of all common sense, or I’m a weak-willed failure because all I could manage was a ride to a coffee place. Evens worse, it’s the most annoyingly hipster coffee place within twenty miles of me. Shit.  I blame Al Gore for this.

All I know is it better warm up soon or I might end up living here…

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