So I make my way across the continent with collapsible bicycle in tow, to hang out in the city with my bestest friend and ride the streets as in days of yore, and also to make a pilgrimage to the cathedral, and instead I spend nearly the entire time doubled over puking and unable to leave the apartment because I got infected with some nameless breed of gut-buggering beasties. Got one ride into town on Friday night, and by 3 AM I was getting better acquainted with the faintly chlorine scent of urban bowl water and the contents of my digestive tract.
Super.
I've just arrived back home after a two-leg flight made tolerable only by Immodium. All-day travel is not at all the same as rest, so tomorrow I am going to stay home and recuperate further and, if I'm fully improved by the dinner hour, I'm going to go buy myself a fat shank of prime rib and a basket of onion rings somewhere because I'm tired of this nonsense.
Super.
I've just arrived back home after a two-leg flight made tolerable only by Immodium. All-day travel is not at all the same as rest, so tomorrow I am going to stay home and recuperate further and, if I'm fully improved by the dinner hour, I'm going to go buy myself a fat shank of prime rib and a basket of onion rings somewhere because I'm tired of this nonsense.
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