*lots of rude swear words*

this is what is left of my bike: my helmet and the keys for my bike lock.

not much use if you want to get home and you have no wheels.

I got off the train today, walked to the bike racks, looked at the space where my bike should be, thought "er....how did I get here this morning if my bike isn't here? did I come by car? is my car outside the office? did I have a ticket to use the train? why have I got my bike helmet in my hand if I didn't come by bike? what does my bike look like anyway? Oh, I get it, some b*****d has nicked it!"

see how my brain first assumes that I am bonkers enough to drive to work in the car taking my bike helmet clipped to my bag, come home by train (without a ticket) and expect my bike to be locked on the bike racks BEFORE I assume that some thieving lala has stolen it. I even phoned Mr. Spitzi to ask him if I'd really come by bike before running to get the bus (the only one that drives to our village per hour...) and then taking my favourite form of transport - Shank's pony - up the hill to home. Luckily it was raining and I had shoes that were not only impractical for walking (but fine for cycling) they were also not waterproof. Yay.

My bike was worthless, I bought it cheap and have had it a few years, it was covered in mud and the mud guard at the front is broken.....but it had 21 working gears, a dynamo and a comfy saddle, the brakes worked and it was MINE.

*sulks*

Other than that rather extreme episode of Mondayness, back to school and work was better than expected....