This morning I woke with grand ideas of a bike ride along a cool, misty greenway - my hair blowing in the breeze as curious woodland animals peeped out to say hello. What a pleasant way to work off yesterday's dietary sins. (I'm a little obsessed with Croque-Monsieur as of late.)
I opened the front door to walk Chewie and *plop!*: a giant raindrop landed squarely on my nose, drenching my dreams of a bucolic bike ride. As I brushed the drop off my nose, I remembered that I can't recall the combination to my bike lock, and girls with curly hair should know that a misty morning bike ride doesn't lend itself to hair flowing in the breeze anyway. Bah Humbug.
... And seriously, how am I going to get my bike free from the railing?