I had to leave town for a while. When I bailed, it was cold, but not all crazy ridiculous. Your hands might get a little cold, but you could still get shit done.
And then I return to Spoberia. I don't know how to sugar-coat this, and besides, we've always been brutally honest with each other: I LEFT YOU GUYS IN CHARGE! How could you let this happen???
Just look at what I found on my workbench . . .
When I left it was a perfectly useful bottle of drinking water. And now, ummm, that's the liquid part on top and air on the bottom. In other words, it don't flo no mo'. It would make a bitchin' bowling pin.
I DON'T BOWL!!!
I have bike stuff to do . . . how am I supposed to work in this environment?
The ceiling in the shop never exactly got finished, so I can't hold any heat in.
Doctor Phil would advise me to take responsibility for my own inaction and stop blaming you, but I'm not ready for this kind of personal growth.
I had to stop and pick up six sheets of OSB to plug the hole in my little sky. I froze my ass off in the parking lot and I froze it off again when I unloaded it at home.
I'm sending you the bill.