A different kind of animal

For the last couple of weeks, work has been hell. I know I work best under pressure, but there are now two of us doing the work of four. I've come in early, stayed late and made regular weekend appearances, but I'm floundering. I'm short-tempered before noon, my back hurts, and even sitting on bouncy ball at my desk isn't helping (I think a hippity hop ball might).

Tonight I gave up just as it became dark enough to need lights for the ride home (didn't bring any), plugged in my podlette and coasted down the hill in a pretty angry mood. Approaching a four way stop, I saw this college kid running down the sidewalk with a leash in his hand, headed straight for the intersection. "Great," I thought, "another person having fun with his dog. Lucky jerk." But there was no dog. And the leash was sticking out straight, three feet off the ground. At its end was a grey parrot, flapping its wings like crazy. The leash was slack, the bird was flying. He was taking his parrot for a...fly? That's when the hysterical laughter started.

Around the corner, I pass a friend on a bike. Yay, comfort of recognition! A few blocks later, I was treated to the sight of a girl carrying an upside-down basset hound down the alley. More laughter. Finally, just as I cranked up the last big hill home, a guy on a bike with a burley passed on the downhill side. He smiled, I smiled, and his passenger tried to smile, but he had a tennis ball stuck in his mouth. Boulder dog hitching a ride to the park. OK, I'm better now. Good tunes still coming through the podlette, nice sunset.

Maybe that parrot and I have something in common. We may spend the majority of our time cooped up indoors, muttering to ourselves and waiting. But just get out us the door, out where we're free to move around, free to stretch wings or legs, and you might not even recognize us. My road bike has always been the closest thing I have to flight, still is. On my bike, I'm a different animal entirely.