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gurdymonkeyNo, I was NOT responsible for the company server behaving weirdly, but I did not appreciate having to delete 20 reports manually from the system AND stand over the printer individually cancelling jobs all afternoon. Thanks to some yutz in Vacaville, I now have to run some 40 reports tomorrow morning.
All this while battling a headache that would not quit or succumb to Advil.
Got home, installed Mimi's new rack on the back with the bits I got at the hardware store, checked the answering machine, found that Dad had not called, left a note on the door for him to let himself in and relax because I was going to ride my bike, dammit.
The other night I had mapped the route from my house to where I take taiko out on the old Naval Air Station. Google Maps optimistically estimated travel time at 22 minutes to cover four miles.
I did the round trip door to door in 55 minutes. Not bad for an old slow fat chick. It was actually slower going out than coming back, because I hit something resembling a head-wind, coupled with moderately rough pavement on Atlantic Avenue just west of Main Street. I told myself I could get off and take a break once I made it to the O Club. Then I blew past the O Club and told myself I could get off and take a break at the dog park by the ferry terminal if I went out the old base gate and back out Main. Somehow that didn't happen either. Despite having to stop at intersections all over town, I more or less managed a fairly consistent cadence, never shifted out of first, and while I was rubber legged, sweaty and breathing hard when I dismounted in front of the house, my heart rate dropped rewardingly quickly.
Maybe the headache didn't help, but it felt like my helmet was getting tighter as the ride went on. If this becomes a recurring sensation, I may have to trade up. If I do, I'll donate this one to Cycles for Change or something.
I had enough time for a fast shower and a change of clothes before Dad showed up to take me to Kamakura for dinner.
He squinted at the menu, then suggested I pick something I thought he would like. I chose the chicken shogayaki for him, a sizzling plate of ginger marinated white and dark meat with shredded vegetables, a round of edamame for both of us, and I had the chirashi. We both had beer. Mmmmmmmmmm. As usual, the hostess brought complimentary plum liqueur before the check.
Came home and giggled through The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie on IFC. Dad flies back to NJ tomorrow morning, so we're both calling it an early night.
All this while battling a headache that would not quit or succumb to Advil.
Got home, installed Mimi's new rack on the back with the bits I got at the hardware store, checked the answering machine, found that Dad had not called, left a note on the door for him to let himself in and relax because I was going to ride my bike, dammit.
The other night I had mapped the route from my house to where I take taiko out on the old Naval Air Station. Google Maps optimistically estimated travel time at 22 minutes to cover four miles.
I did the round trip door to door in 55 minutes. Not bad for an old slow fat chick. It was actually slower going out than coming back, because I hit something resembling a head-wind, coupled with moderately rough pavement on Atlantic Avenue just west of Main Street. I told myself I could get off and take a break once I made it to the O Club. Then I blew past the O Club and told myself I could get off and take a break at the dog park by the ferry terminal if I went out the old base gate and back out Main. Somehow that didn't happen either. Despite having to stop at intersections all over town, I more or less managed a fairly consistent cadence, never shifted out of first, and while I was rubber legged, sweaty and breathing hard when I dismounted in front of the house, my heart rate dropped rewardingly quickly.
Maybe the headache didn't help, but it felt like my helmet was getting tighter as the ride went on. If this becomes a recurring sensation, I may have to trade up. If I do, I'll donate this one to Cycles for Change or something.
I had enough time for a fast shower and a change of clothes before Dad showed up to take me to Kamakura for dinner.
He squinted at the menu, then suggested I pick something I thought he would like. I chose the chicken shogayaki for him, a sizzling plate of ginger marinated white and dark meat with shredded vegetables, a round of edamame for both of us, and I had the chirashi. We both had beer. Mmmmmmmmmm. As usual, the hostess brought complimentary plum liqueur before the check.
Came home and giggled through The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie on IFC. Dad flies back to NJ tomorrow morning, so we're both calling it an early night.
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Date: 2010-08-13 05:33 am (UTC)