Dystopian Fish Circus

 I have a knack for complications.  Creating and experiencing them, primarily.  Solving them, sometimes. I probably try too hard to get my money's worth from a purchase, and end up constantly balanced on the edge of complication.  Just my normal, but I'm trying to get better. Anyway, last day of my 64-day all-over-the-country motorcycle ride.  Per my usual, I will find the occasional shady spot to stretch the legs and rehydrate.  130 miles from home, and happened to glance at the front tire.  It looked just fine two hours earlier. I played through some of the options, none of which looked good.  I was in a spot with no options anyway, so I got back on the bike and rode carefully another 13 miles to the next town, all while trying to pretend the tire didn't really look like that.  And I might be able to get all the way home if I was very careful.  Delusions are easy to manufacture. I did manage a shred of sensibility, and got myself to a ...

  I was never too good at doing the regular stuff.  Organizing receipts, remembering to pay bills on time, settling down to the suburban life, etc.  I guess I need a girlfriend to help me with some of these things.  I'm currently accepting applications.  On the other hand, life in the suburbs doesn't provide many views like the one above.  Mount Washington, New Hampshire.  August 2019. I'm not really doing anything too extreme.  Not jumping off the cliff, but there is pleasure in sitting at the edge just contemplating it.  A bit of scenery and time for appreciating it.  Certainly more interesting than most days.   I have friends who think 200 miles is a long motorcycle trip.  And that's fine.  It just doesn't work for me.  I grew up traveling regularly.  Was employed in traveling jobs.  No surprise that I found recreation to necessarily involve travel.  Sitting at home starts feeling wrong very qui...