Number running.

(Holidailies Day #5)

I do live an extraordinarily exciting life. And, ss such, and as usual this time of year, I spent the last couple of weeks of November hemming and hawing over whether to buy a December bus pass. I’m not a winter cyclist, as I don’t fancy competing with snow banks, dealing with (even more) frozen skin, negotiating around even dafter than usual drivers, nor destroying my bike’s mechanical bits with road salt.

Last year, I didn’t put my bike away for the season until Christmas. On Wednesday, I looked at the weather forecast, and opted to just put $50 on my Presto Card instead of of buying a $105 monthly pass. I biked to work on Thursday and Friday. I did two-wheeled errands on Saturday. Last night, I cycled to pub quiz and home. The forecast said there was a 40% chance of snow.

I woke up to several centimetres of the white shit. There are more to come.

I don’t usually believe in the woo-woo, but still have a niggling feeling that because I bet on the universe, it played me.

This bodes well for when I (probably) go to Las Vegas next summer.

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