I'm supposed to be at a seminar at Trades Hall right now. But today was a long day at school - not particularly full on, just long, with lots of stuff going on - and so my boss suggested that if we didn't want to go, we didn't have to. Immediately my mind went to recovery mode and I started dreaming of lying in bed reading, brain ceasing to function altogether. But then someone suggested I come race my bike. And then I remembered how freaking good it feels to take all of the workday shit, that impossible war of attrition, that daily obligation, and just tear it out of your heart by force of sheer exertion. I haven't even rolled onto the track yet and already I'm stoked, listening to Boxcar, scoffing down food for fuel, forgetting about psychologists reports, Asperger's syndrome, suspension meetings, violence and graffiti and Oppositional Defiance Disorder and court dates and the Alternative Settings Review and weekly reports and goals and everything else. All of a sudden I'm a schoolboy on Christmas morning, and I'm going to open all the presents.
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