Work is the Curse of The Riding Class

The day before yesterday, it was just one of those days. In a good way, though. Sunny, not a cloud in the sky. The temp was chilly, but not outright cold, the bike just seemed to feel and sound right. I was wearing a combination of comfortable, familiar, broken-in jacket and gloves so old, they've conformed to the curvature of my fingers, and a new helmet that I'm loving. I was rolling up the road, coming to where I had to turn into the shopping center where I work.

I looked up at that deep blue, cloudless sky, listened to the roar of the V twin engine beneath me, and I swear I heard Matthew Broderick's voice in my head, from the movie "Ferris Bueller's Day Off", saying: "How could I be expected to handle school on a day like this?" I really wanted to keep riding, and just ride. All. Day. However, I sadly remembered that we were scheduled for an unusually large shipment that day, and that there was really no one else who could be called in to replace me. So I exerted a herculean amount of willpower and made the turn and went to work. Damn that sense of personal and professional responsibility, no matter how small it may be...