They Didn’t Give Me A Tracking Number

I’ve been checking my front door obsessively everyday for the past two days.  I hate waiting in general, but sweet bbq sauce do I get impatient waiting for a package to arrive.  This particular package is of great importance and has been a constant source of excited hand motions for the past week.  It’s been causing serious strain and anxiety as my adrenaline soaked brain waits for the UPS man to show up and present me with my new steed.  It’s new bike time!  And that is the best time, only rivaled by food time and bed time. 
The selection precess that I underwent was vigorous and arduous.  I’m not good with numbers, and that’s all I had to go on when making this difficult choice.  What to get, what to get?  The options were nearly overwhelming, what with different suspension layouts, availability, price, fit…ugh, it was like trying on a prom dress, I mean shoes…fivetens…whatever.  I spent hours pouring over charts, reviews, pictures, all seemingly to no avail.  Frustrated, I wracked my brain, searching for options I hadn’t considered or pursued – and then it clicked, and then I clicked, over to the webpage of the manufacturer I had been neglecting to remember; winner winner chicken dinner.  And just that, I’d found the one.
After that, the stress of finding a suitable piece of engineering turned into the waiting game – my least favorite of games.  And now I sit here, still waiting.  I would have come totally unhinged at this point if it weren’t for a couple other key components I am also waiting to have delivered.  There is no point to this tale, no moral, no lesson learned.  I am just trying to find a constructive way to pass the time, while I continue to wait…

I also purchased new camo crocs. I had to ask the sales clerk to check out back and see if they had them in stock. No regrets. 

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