Tuesday. It sucked.

This has been a Tuesday that was a Monday in all normal respects.

It started out decently - I rode the Guzzi to work, and enjoyed every minute of the trip.  I had quite forgot how good it felt to ride a motorcycle that is so much a part of you that you almost put it on and wear it rather than do something so mundane as to get on its back and tell it what to do.

I left late for work and got there a little bit early - a perfect trip in.

It turned to poo when it was time to go home.

I went out on the roof to my motorcycle and out the key in, unlocked the steering, got out my jacket and gloves and put them on and stowed my tablet bag, climbed on, and started it up.

That is, I turned the key and pushed the button.

No lights.  No noise.  Deader than last year's news.

I said a word, then remembered it won't start with the sidestand down, so I put the sidestand up.  Wouldn't start with it up, either, dammit!

I rolled it down into the garage, and started to think about getting it a hotshot - we have hotshot boxes all over the place.  The battery is under the seat.  Bear in mind, the motorcycle is Italian, so anything you thought you knew about where things are normally located will only confuse you.

But the battery, as I knew, was under the seat, so I started to take the seat off. I started to look around and see what I had to make loose to get the seat off. I took off some side covers that didn't need to come off. I found nothing pertaining to the seat under the covers, so I put them back on. The seat still won't come off.  I look in the user manual, and can find nothing about removing the seat.  I look some more - still nothing.  I look all over the motorcycle - and find nothing.  The seat won't budge, there are no bolts - nothing to be seen.

I read the manual end to end, and under helmet lock there is the information I need.  Effing Italians, hiding the seat lock by combining it with the helmet lock - where's the logic in that?  Now the seat's off, and a couple of guys bring me a hotshot box, and it starts.  I shut it down, put the seat back on, and start it up again.

Or try to start it up again.  No go.  Hotshot box, seat off, apply and restart.  This time block at high idle for about 8 minutes while I find helmet, gloves, leather jacket, get dressed, and head for home.  About ten minutes later, the get gas light comes on. Bear in mind I haven't had this so long that I know how far it will go with that little light on, and I have this feeling tonight ain't the night to risk it - so I get off the highway to a gas station, fill it back up, and start it again.  Or try - the damn thing just clicks at me and won't turn....

Push it out of the way, set the sidestand, and call the motor club for a hotshot.  They say in 35 minutes - the guy actually shows in 20, and I'm so happy, I get on the bike to set the center stand, and promptly fall over on the left side.  Allstate Guy helps me pick it up and get it on the center stand, and it starts right up - with a hotshot box.  I start  heading home the rest of the way, secure in the knowledge that I have enough gas.  The rest of the trip is a dream.  I really do love the Guzzi.

So I get home, ride up into the carport and set up to park next to the big Suzuki - and promptly fall over onto the other side from the side I fell over onto when the Allstate guy come. While I'm laying there on the ground, my cell phone rings - it is my lovely wife, wondering if I am home yet. She detects that I am not really thrilled and asks me what has happened.  I tell her I just dropped the damned motorcycle and can't pick it up and probably mumble some profanities just to spice it up.

She offers to call someone to help me pick it up, and I thank her and then hang up so maybe I can breathe again and get my BP under control.

Damon shows up and helps me (actually does most of the work) pick it up, and I scurry around and set the sidestand.  Then Phyllis shows up, and I decide to move the bike to where it should be parked, so I pop the sidestand up and start it - or at least try to start it.  It won't start. By this time, I am beyond pissed! I push it into place and resolve to get a replacement battery - and drive the Volvo tomorrow, on what will be a wonderful motorycle day. The rest of the week, of course, after I have a chance to get a battery, will be rain - including the Saturday that I had planned to go on a ride with the club.

See what I mean about imperfect Tuesdays?

I came inside, got something to eat, and fired up the Toshiba laptop intending to read email and go to bed. Instead I wrote this.

Tomorrow will be better.

Tomorrow will be better.

Tomorrow will dammit be better!

I think it is time to get some sleep, and hope I don't hurt in the morning.

I surely hope that this isn't a Sign that I am supposed to get a toy with more wheels....

G'night, y'all.