Spent the morning walking to Walmart (vomit) and buying : bike pump, bike lock (cheap one, just for running into a store), bike lube, helmet. The helmet... it's a child sized. It was the only child sized helmet at Walmart that I liked. It fit perfectly but it did not have a label so they asked me where I got it.
First off, it was like early as fuck and I hadn't had any coffee or vitamins (trying to get the walk/shopping over before the day got hot!) and I had only been to that Walmart once. They looked at me like I was crazy when I said I had no idea where I got the helmet from. I felt high as a kite but I had not smoked anything since the previous night! It was me, being confused as hell, and them, asking where I got the helmet and getting irate at me. I almost walked out but I really wanted that helmet. Anyhow I got the fucking helmet and I walked home with it and the other stuff and then I took a shower. Then I trotted out the bike and the nosy next door neighbor had to have her say in everything. But I got it working, its' all tuned up. The wheels are in great alignment. The brakes are working fine. My bike tools have rusted but I got them cleaned up. We're ready to roll should it ever cool the fuck down, whoa it's hot as fuck.
Mike and the homeless woman are downstairs. She's smoking meth in the bathroom; Mike is passed out from his pot carts. Me, I'm sitting here talking to my ex (B. -- K abandoned me. Fuck K) about her dying kitty. And talking to M about her kid's upcoming history test. I have found 2 new (OLD) friends. Hooray for cleaning house.
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