Not Riding My Bike

codeFive days ago I last rode my bike. ¬†Instead, I have worked sixty¬†hours at my day job – writing code. More than passion, it’s an obsession. Maybe I write good code. Maybe my old buds at Microsoft would say it sucks. Anyway, my bike misses me.

Mornings I wake up tired. Several cups of Italian roasted French press coffee turns tired to buzzed. Martha asks a simple question about what’s for supper and I respond with the look. Twelve hours after that first cup of coffee she finds me emerging from my cave. A glaze that feels like stale applesauce covers me from head to toe. Drink beer, eat supper, go to bed. Wake up at 3am, new day begins.

Promise: tomorrow I’ll ride my bike.

 

 

Published by

Karl

Born in Harrisburg, PA. Undergrad at Drexel University. Learned to ride a bike when six years old, riding ever since. Started cooking when I was in college, stopped when I got married, started again in 2006 when my wife was out of town for a few months. Jobs: worked at post office while in college to earn money to buy a stereo. After grad school, worked at a small software company in Redmond, WA for twelve years. Afterwards, went back to school to get a certificate, then started teaching high school. Still doing that off and on, part time as the need arises.

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