Some weeks, I just am not ready for it to be Friday. And I only realised yesterday that Monday is a holiday. I don't know if I can stop hyperventilating about work for long enough to have a nice weekend, but I am willing to try. I brought home maps and data in case I can’t get over it, but after a few wines I dare say work becomes a distant memory.
We have a guest who has just (like yesterday) moved to Townsville, so we will be distracted by all the amazing things there are to show and share to a newcomer. He already realizes he is doomed to some cycling, ready or not. But honestly, like the Dutch student who borrowed my hybrid the other day remarked, the city is a whole different place when you get off the main roads. So it is worth the effort (I hope).
I was having a nice doodle to the dam this morning and I swear Ruth Corset passed me. If there is one person I don’t mind passing me it is Ruth. I was very tempted to jump on her wheel but that would just be rude.
The fog was weird at the dam. It was beige, thick, and it tasted like flint. A bit of cordite aftertaste. Interesting. I assume it was dusty with a western storm, but I don’t know for sure.
Anyway – a big three day weekend stretches ahead. With 200 kms to add to for a Sunday midnight total, looks sweet.