I spoke no more (diary)

I was really pissed off on the way home from work tonight (at 21:30). I think it was when my rear spoke broke.

Actually, I know it was when my rear spoke broke. Especially because just last week, another spoke broke on the same bike. I tried riding home, but then the wheel got really fucked out.

Backtracking a bit, when I picked up my wheel after having the spoke replaced the first time, there was a twist-tie holding an invoice or something on one of the spokes. Instead of un-twisting it, the jackass at the bike store pulled it off--hard. I have a sneaky suspicion that this may have been the same spoke that broke tonight.

Anyway, since my wheel is out of true, it might mean that it is unfixable, and I may have to spend big bucks to replace it ($100+), and I just bought a new $200 bike light.

Good thing I worked 9.5 hours today (it's a good wage, but very stressful work...very).

And it's not like I don't have tuition, textbooks, and all sorts of other expenses (okay, food and that's about it).

And I have a bunch of stuff to sell on eBay (some of which I have to sell for my Aunt in return for a favour), but I have no fucking time whatsoever (notice how this time I didn't say too fucking busy?).

Whatever. I'm off to Jazz Camp tomorrow, and will definitely enjoy myself, relax, etc. Aaahhhh...

...except I still have to pack and get ready! Shit. (I am not censoring this word because it is more public. You can't step in a pile of fuck.)

- RG.