Category Archives: Personal Stupidity


Whenever I tell myself it’s going to be a big writing day, Other Self, that person I talk to in my head, should know by now to say, “Uh-oh.” It’s like some Prayer of the Damned.

Woke up a couple hours before dawn and worked on the novel, mostly reading through the ending, with plenty of forehead-palming and teeth-gnashing. At dawn, I took a bike ride out to the Arboretum to have a hike and slow run around. The book takes place there, and the ending happens at just this time of year. Plus wandering around keeps the old brain joggled up.

Gorgeous day. I came back to the bike with plenty of observations and thoughts to write down, as soon as I got home and had some breakfast. Then I realized I hadn’t brought the key to my bike lock.

I’ve always had a combination lock, but the guy at the store where I bought my bike told me the hefty cable that came with half a dozen spare keys was a better buy. I have a key on my keyring (the one Dan bought me, with the scorpion encased in lucite), one in each backpack I use, one hanging up on the Go Army! lanyard hanging in the dining room, one at work.

Fortunately, work was only four miles from the Arboretum, as opposed to eight to get home. So I ran down there, sat around in the shade for an hour till Ashley came to unlock the store, then ran back to the Arb and biked home.

Stupid as this was, it occurred to me how lucky I am–that running an extra eight miles is nothing worse than an inconvenience. I came home hungry and thirsty and sunburned, to say nothing of feeling more than a little stupid, but otherwise none the worse.