Doesn't seem to be a shadow in the city.

This is an excerpt from an entry in my paper journal, dated January 13, 2009, following a long description of how much I hate winter: "I can't wait till summer. At night I set my sound machine on 'Summer Night' (the sound of crickets) and I dream about summer. The long days, with plenty of time to ride my bike, and the feel of the heat on my arms and legs as I pedal. A bike ride in the summer is a religious rite."

And that's the sort of bike-ride I had today, riding to work in the middle of a June day in Louisiana. I probably sweated off ten pounds (which, if you've seen me, you know I can't afford to lose) and after my head was throbbing, which only happens after really intense bike-rides. The worst-case scenario was when I rode my bike to French class once, and going into the air-conditioned classroom after all that heat made my head throb so hard that I almost passed out in the middle of Balzac. Anyway, I can't describe the feeling it gives me, but a bike-ride like that always, always makes me think of these lines from The Ten Commandments (where Moses is wandering through the desert):

He cannot cool the burning kiss of thirst upon his lips, nor shade the scorching fury of the sun.
He cannot bless or curse the power that moves him, for he does not know from where it comes.
He is driven onward through the burning crucible of desert,
where holy men and prophets are cleansed and purged for God's great purpose.
Until at last, the metal is ready for the Maker's hand.

The bad news is that my bike chain popped off three times on the way to work today. I think it happened because I went riding in the rain last weekend and my chain got a little rusty. But whatever the reason, it couldn't have happened on a worse day. Our district manager (who has one name, TimGreen) visited the store today, and everybody has been hyping his appearance up so much that all I've heard for the past several days has been, "When TimGreen comes, when TimGreen is here, etc." What isn't supposed to happen when TimGreen comes is for Rebecca to arrive late, sweaty and wild-eyed, with rust all over her hands. Ugh.