A loser is me . . . for great justice?

The frustrating thing isn't that I'm sitting here alone, soaked through, exhausted, and disappointed. Nor is it that I brought it upon myself. It's not even that that it's a mar on what started out as such a pleasant evening, nor even that I feel foolish for setting out with so much hope and energy. Hell, it's not even the complete lack of telephone, IM, or email message.

What gets me is that I can't figure out what I did to whom that I'm paying for now, nor, alternatively, what lesson I'm supposed to learn from this.

Associated thought: it's a shame that the wonder of nature and the exhilaration of exercise are a lot harder to appreciate when they come together in the form of a two-mile bicycle ride in the middle of the night in the pouring rain home from disappointment.

Comfiness is . . .

. . . a great bit mug of hot chocolate.