So today I wake up, I go to work for a few hours, and I come home . . . ready to ride. And it’s so sunny out that I decide to take an old McGuire kit and cut the sleeves off (which officially makes me a dork). So long tan lines. Hello beautiful even tan that I might even be able to show off in a tank top. Well, while I am at it with all the cutting, why don’t I just sew the edges too? It will look much nicer that way.

Sew sew sew. New sleeveless tank jersey – voila! Put sewing maching away. Ok, I am now an hour late to get on bike. But hey, it’s day light savings – right?

Ok, on bike. Pedal pedal pedal for about one block. Adjust seat set back and hope back on. For about 2 blocks. Now adjust seat height and hope back on. For about 3 blocks. Adjust some more and . . . snap! There goes the seat collar – cracked in half.

No problem. I am now about two hours late. Except that I have to go to the only SerHOTta dealer in town. Who I have to talk business with, while I am wearing my home-made-dork-tank-top-jersey and have nothing on that is sponsor correct. With the tops of my arms still pastey white from the bad central valley tan lines.

So finally I get a new seat collar and am on the road for about a mile when Roman calls from Taiwan. We talk. I remount the bike and pedal pedal pedal until I have to adjust my seat again. This proceeds for the next 2.5 hrs when I finally call it a day and come home to actually measure everything and try using one of those handy dandy plumb bob things (which I made out of a metal toy car and string). And now I am wondering why I just can’t keep my life together?