Not so lost in Translation

So, I felt like journaling again. My own paper journal is missing weeks of entries, and that only means one thing, not that it means anything (nothing is happening in my life?)

I started cycling as a mode of transportation today. Go me. My first foray into the dangerous world of drivers vs cyclists went as far as the closest Publix (3 mi), and it wasn't as traumatic as I expected, but that is due to the fact that a quarter of the city population have gone back to their old dwellings, and the other half were worshipping in their chapels/churches/halls/temples/mosques.

Yay for empty streets and the occassional jogger!

However, all did not go well. I thought my meager powerbar breakfast could hold up. I've been eating powerbars for breakfast for half a year already that I've forgotten what "breakfast" is. Well, skip to the good stuff. 50 meters from my destination, my arms started to hurt, and my feet were flying off the pedals. Good thing I wasn't using the clipless ones this morning. I dismounted and walked the rest of the way, got there, locked my bike etc...

Then I entered. I don't know, but I think the sudden change of temperature coupled with my pre-hypoglycemic state got me, but I suddenly felt light-headed. I tried to brush it off by walking, but I got as far as the newspaper stand before nearly collapsing. Good thing a bench was nearby and I managed to fall towards it without drawing much attention. One of the Publix workers asked if I was alright. Whew! It's nice to know that people aren't that insensitive. I said I was alright (I really wasn't, but I got a handle on it. It wasn't my first time to almost faint). After a few minutes of sitting down, I carefully walked to the nearest fridge and grabbed a gatorade, drank the whole thing and walked to the "powerbar place." At this point, I was feeling much better. Again, it wasn't my first time with pre-fainting.

After purchasing what I was there for in the first place (carrots and tea) and eating 3 high-calorie, high-sugar powerbars, and drinking another gatorade bottle (I paid for other one too!), I stood next to my bike thinking...should I bike back or call for back-up?

Pride got the best of me and I courageously (stupidly?) mounted my steed and pedaled my way to my couch. No pre-fainting this time. I almost hit another douchebag (idiot motorist) though. I have the right of way, he was turning, but like the douchebag that he was, he stopped for at his stop sign, looked at me, decided I was going too slow, and then zoomed, but not fast enough because I narrowly missed his trunk. Douchebag.