Oh man, I am STRUGGLING, y’all.

I don’t think it’s the best time in my cycle, tbh, but still. I tried to go to bed at a decent time last night, but I still woke up feeling tired, wanting nothing more than to just keep sleeping. Instead, it’s MONDAY, so I had to go to WORK, of course, and it’s all just a CHORE. I spent my lunch hour in a sweater under a towel I keep in my office because the AC is freezing and I just wanted to read this trashy book I started yesterday. I also have plans to hang with friends after work, and I totally don’t feel like it (sorry, FRIENDS). I’m sure I’ll enjoy it once I force myself to do it, but I am just feeling like a crabby ‘ol hermit.

It was a good weekend. Good weather, friends, festivals in town, some pool time. But …. I did fall off my bike.

Yes, I was drinking (Why does everyone ask that IMMEDIATELY, I mean, duh!). It was a pretty pathetic scene, actually. Every other street in town is torn to shit right now. Literally. You’ll go to turn on a road you’ve been turning on all summer and suddenly NOPE, JUST KIDDING, ASSHOLE, THAT SHIT IS GONE. FIND AN ALTERNATE ROUTE. Winter and construction — welcome to the Midwest.

The road I fell on has been torn up for months, so it wasn’t a sneak attack by any means. Some friends and I were traveling between festivals, and we’d had a few. As we approached the construction zone, I got off my bike, figuring we’d park them and walk the rest of the way. But we decided to keep going on that road, at least the sidewalk, and park a little closer.

Oh sure, I thought, getting back on my bike — the sidewalk! No problemo —

I totally veered too far to the edge and ended up sliding down a dirt incline into the torn up, dusty ass street — or what’s left of it right now. I landed on my left side. A pathetically thin metal wire, that I GUESS is supposed to help protect you from doing such a thing — but spoiler alert, it doesn’t! — caught on my ear a bit and scraped it up. And I tore up my left elbow. But otherwise, I was fine.

Except I totally wasn’t.

I burst into tears like a 3-year-old that dropped their ice cream cone.

Everyone in the neighborhood.

Behind me, as I fell — because it totally happened in slow motion, yet I was powerless to stop it — I heard Luke utter a very foreboding, very resigned, “ohhhhhh shit.”

Because he knew. He knew this was not going to be good.

And his reaction just set me off more.

The thing is, I am a total baby when it comes to a lot of things, biking included. I’m not really sure why. It’s just one of those things that hasn’t quite come together for me. As a child, my mom’s method for trying to get me to learn was taking me to the school near our house, out in back where there was a grassy hill, and pushing me down it.

It didn’t work out.

I didn’t even want to learn how to ride a bike until my younger brother learned while we were in daycare, and well, I guess that was just too much for me to handle. So I taught myself. But, I’m shaky. I kind of suck at it. My balance is bad. My confidence is worse. I hate the traffic. I hate being too far off the ground, so my bike is set slightly lower than it should be.

Madison is a major bike city. There are bike paths everywhere. There are designated bike lanes on most streets.

Still, I struggle. I did OK for a few years, but last summer, I fell one evening (Yes… I was drinking), and it really set me back, mentally. This summer has been slow going, and then this happened. So who knows.

So anyway, I’m crying. I went into the bar I fell in front of to clean up. My friend Emily came in to help. While trying to sooth me and clean me up, she also was like “OK, but why did you yell at Luke, this isn’t his fault.”

Sigh. I know. But I hate disappointing him. And I know he really wishes I was more comfortable on a bike. That I wanted to bike everywhere, all the time.

But… I don’t. I’m sorry! I’m a fish. Put me in the water, put me on a boat, we’re in business. Maybe I’m secretly a mermaid.

So anyway, when I fell, and I heard his reaction, I just kind of lost it.

I tend to do that. I tend to take a moment that really has no bearing in whatever’s bothering me and use it as an opportunity to UNLOAD. Super mature, I know. Super fair. And what was bothering me was that right before this happened we were talking about bike falls, and I’d mentioned that my fall last summer had set me back, like months.

And he mumbled, but not so that I couldn’t hear, “more like years.”

And it PISSED ME OFF. And then I FELL. It’s all kind of a blur, but I do distinctly remember yelling, “I’m 36 — I don’t need this!”

I’m not totally sure what I even meant, but I think it had something to do with lying in the dusty street. Cuz who the fuck needs that? Not me.

As I related this to Emily, she said, “Well, you can talk to him about that tomorrow, when you’re sober.”

Ya know, like ADULTS do. And then she said no one ever accused me of being athletic so maybe his expectations are somewhat unrealistic.

So anyway, once the dust settled — ha! — I apologized for lashing out and said I’d heard his shitty ( and might I add, inaccurate ) comment, and we laughed about how clumsy I am. And then at some point he said I was just “too Alyssa to function.”

Which made me laugh. JFC, I am too Alyssa to function, you guys. Help! At one point yesterday, I got up from the couch, smacked my knee into one of the ottomans, lifting it up a smidge just so it could come back down onto my foot.

I’M A MESS.

“Too Alyssa to function..” he repeated as I retreated to the bathroom to hide from this latest humiliation. He later told me I just needed to work on my Balance. To that, I say:

Thanks for the advice.

Just kidding, babe, love ya! I’ll see you on the bike path in 3 years.