Drip drip drop. .

I know things are bad when I’m grateful for rain because it means that I don’t need to feel guilty for getting the bus instead of cycling in.

Fly is making unhealthy sounds, not only when turning corners, but now there’s a horrendously loud clacking sound when I pedal as well as the old clicking of the buckled wheel that resulted from my scarf-meets-chain fiasco. I don’t have enough money to get it serviced at the moment, which is a really strange feeling because even though I’ve never been loaded, I get by. Counting pennies is really not my strong point.

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