![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Today, to celebrate my birthday, I got into a bike accident and spent 13 hours at school.
Basically: When my bike seat was stolen last week, they damaged the mount, so the seat/pole I bought do not fit properly, and after a bit of riding slide all the way down, and the seat swings around beneath you as you pedal.
Something hit me in the ass, hard, and then the gears seized up completely. The thing that hit me was discovered (after I made close acquainaence with the ground, much to the displeasure of my shoulder and its muscles) to be one ricocheting metal end of a bungee cord. The bungee cord was discovered WOUND IN MY GEARS, with the remaining end hooked into and around the chain.
So, after about ten minutes of unwinding and detangling on the side of the road, I'm further banged up, and covered with oil, but the cord is free. The oil is also on my favourite shorts, bright blue board shorts. I was already running late, because the printer that I got to replace the printer that broke after three months (that I purchased as the printer before that stopped working), and I haven't had the printed notes for my class for a week or so.
I'm reasonably sure I looked like a mad woman, staggering into class late with a bike seat clutched to my chest with one arm, covered with oil and grass and just a bit of blood. And then I had school until work, and work until nine. Yay for thirteen hours on campus!
(Worst. Birthday. Ever. But, hey, at least it's memorable, and a good story. And I got cake. Very nice cake.)
Basically: When my bike seat was stolen last week, they damaged the mount, so the seat/pole I bought do not fit properly, and after a bit of riding slide all the way down, and the seat swings around beneath you as you pedal.
Something hit me in the ass, hard, and then the gears seized up completely. The thing that hit me was discovered (after I made close acquainaence with the ground, much to the displeasure of my shoulder and its muscles) to be one ricocheting metal end of a bungee cord. The bungee cord was discovered WOUND IN MY GEARS, with the remaining end hooked into and around the chain.
So, after about ten minutes of unwinding and detangling on the side of the road, I'm further banged up, and covered with oil, but the cord is free. The oil is also on my favourite shorts, bright blue board shorts. I was already running late, because the printer that I got to replace the printer that broke after three months (that I purchased as the printer before that stopped working), and I haven't had the printed notes for my class for a week or so.
I'm reasonably sure I looked like a mad woman, staggering into class late with a bike seat clutched to my chest with one arm, covered with oil and grass and just a bit of blood. And then I had school until work, and work until nine. Yay for thirteen hours on campus!
(Worst. Birthday. Ever. But, hey, at least it's memorable, and a good story. And I got cake. Very nice cake.)