The last two weeks have been embroiled with setting up a new research lab at the end of the fiscal year: aliquotting thousands of dollars, ordering and receiving supplies and equipment, fielding vulture vendor representatives, parlaying purchasing agents and vendors...... bringing order to general chaos.

You know you need a break when you avoid human contact; instead, talking to inanimate objects like your bike and the elevators.

Six o’clock this morning in pitch dark:

“Whee, we are going to ride over the back pasture smoothly this morning, aren’t we?”
“Sure, try using your low beams this time. You can see where we’re going.”
“Oh, yeah. Pulled in with high beams on last night.”
“And don’t grip the throttle so hard!”

On I-820:

“Know what, Whee? I don’t give a crap if the cagers behind me are in a hurry. I am not closing the gap in front of me. I don’t feel like doing the “stop-go-stop-go” dance this morning. If the truckers can do it, so can I and fuck the rest.”

On talking elevator to and from café for coffee dose:

“Going up?”
“What if I don’t want to go up? Are you going to make me?”

“Thirteenth floor.”
“ I can read, thank you. And if I close my eyes, I can feel the Braille on the wall. Now shut up.”

“Going down.”
“Hmmm…… if we are decelerating, and no one sees us, does that mean we are still going down? Betcha can’t answer that one, Elevator!”

On the way home:

I need a break.