Usually I have my headphones in for the commute, this morning it's just me and the birds and the tires on tarmac.
It was supposed to thunderstorm this morning. I'm sure it will. I hope it does. If it doesn't I'll feel pretty guilty today. Well, a little guilty. For a few weeks one summer, between undergrad years, I took to biking a trail every morning before work. It wasn't a commute. It was for the exercise; for the birds, the fawns and the foxes; mostly for the smoothy at the end of it all. I went everyday for three weeks. One morning it was raining a bit and I took the morning off.
"you deserve it" said the part of me that likely knowing full well I'd never get back on that trail.
Other parts of me either didn't know, didn't care or agreed and didn't want to say why.
Thats twice that I know of where I've used "usually" to describe something that clearly wasn't, or isn't. At least not yet.
Ils vas faire du pluie a demain, aussi. Je n'aime pas du pluie, At least not while I'm on my bike.
(I was going to touch on the irony of <i>music while I ride and nature while I bus</I>, but the story moved away from it.)
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