From house cats to wild penguins.

I’ve been housebound (apartmentbound?) for nearly two weeks now. It started with a tendinitis flare-up which coincided with some shitty weather that made it unpleasant to go out for a mood-lifting walk. After a week of keeping my right wrist in a brace and taking anti-inflammatories, I started to develop a cough, resulting in an overlap of sickness and injury. At the same time, the weather improved, but I’ve been too sick to go outside.

You know who really understands what it’s like to be trapped inside? These two:

Having the cats around have kept me from turning into a triple threat: sick, injured, AND depressed.

The upside of getting sick while recovering from an injury is that I already had a doctor’s note excusing me from work. But because I had spent all my paid sick days back in June to recover from my bike accident, I’ve earned $0 over the past two weeks. To put it in context, THAT’S NOTHING.

Tomorrow, I start earning money again. I really need it as I have booked a two-week vacation at the end of January.
Continue reading “From house cats to wild penguins.”

Dream Job: Cookie Architect.

If nobody showed off, we wouldn’t have pro athletes, artists, or stunt people. The whole point of Instagram is to show off, whether it be your hot bod, hot bowl of ramen, or in my case, the demonic balls of fluff that are my cats.

There is one month of the year when cookie architects get the most attention: this one. December.

When I’m not juggling greasy bike parts, I’m mashing my oily meathooks into gingerbread dough. I design buildings nobody can inhabit, just ingest. And I am good at it. 

Without further ado, I shall show off, starting with last year’s saccharine behemoth:

Gomez, Morticia, their children, the creepy uncle, and the butler lived here until Yann rendered them homeless with his mouth.
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Yarnwork.

Three winters ago, I decided that I needed to add to my extensive list of hobbies. I don’t cycle or camp when it’s cold out. While climbing remains a viable option, I’m not strong enough to visit the climbing gym more than twice a week. Without natural light to work under, the art supplies remain stored away over winter.

As a kid, I specialized in wrist jewelry made of rexlace, embroidery thread, or seed beads. I made sculptures (and ashtrays) out of pottery, polymer, and modelling clay. My primary school book reports were often accompanied by papier mâché heads of the characters’ likenesses which I now realize may have weirded out my teachers. I pointlessly melted and re-formed crayons by throwing them in boiling water. I had a calligraphy set and a collection of rubber stamps with embossing powder.

I still have glitter in my hair from that era.

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Oh, the ways you’ll hurt yourself!

I am now two weeks into my office job, and it’s already a pain in the neck. This can be attributed to a combination not having set up my workspace correctly and chronic neck pain. Although they are fine now, my wrists are also prone to tendinitis flare-ups. Strangely, these flare-ups are more likely to be triggered by the gentle motions of typing on a keyboard rather than by the brute force sometimes required in removing stuck bike components at my regular job.

Yes, I am excellent at injuring myself doing the most delicate tasks.

Continue reading “Oh, the ways you’ll hurt yourself!”

Employment deployment.

My employment at the bike shop has ended for the year. Until the end of January, I will be sitting in front of computer answering questions that may or may not be about bicycles. At this time of the year, the bike shop is essentially a ski shop anyway, and I find sitting on my buns answering questions online more pleasant than waxing endless skis. Outside of work, the seasonal changeover means my focus will shift from being a mediocre cyclist for being a mediocre gym climber.

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