So I'm thinking that the first of November is a good deadline for the post-journal journal site. It gives me a week. This past week, I spent far too much time putting together a small CV/portfolio site. It took forever, and I'm not sure why. I must be a little rusty, I wouldn't normally be this slow. But it's done, finally, so I can begin firing off letters to potential employers. I don't want a full-time gig - god, no - but I do need some contracts now and then to keep the wolf from the door. 

I so do not miss being someone's full-time employee. I so do not miss having to get up and go to work every morning. I so do not miss having to spend my days in someone's office, returning home after the sun has set for six months of the year.

I've been to the track every day since Thursday, watching the world cycling championships. Amazing, absolutely amazing. I almost want to come out of retirement. Almost.

I could go on at great length but nobody really cares, I suspect. Some observations: I met an acquaintance from Vancouver, a rider on the Canadian team, and chatted for a while. She rode the points race today, had a hard go of it, crashing twice. For two of the day sessions I rode up to the track, rather than take the S-Bahn. Hanging around the concourse in cycling gear was pretty entertaining, because kids will come up and ask for your autograph, assuming that you're a rider. I had the decency to tell them who I was, or wasn't. 

So another week will soon begin. Look for work, build websites, write, read, ride my bike, explore the city. The weather has been strangely warm; as long as it continues, I will be able to skate in the Grunewald. Wednesday or Thursday will be my first ice session, hopefully. Time to get moving on the winter training, and various other things.

I was "doored" today, on my way up to the track. On Wilhelmstraße, half a block south of Unter den Linden, I was riding between the curb and a line of stopped cars when someone decided that they just had to get out of their taxi. The door swung open about ten feet ahead of me. I hit the brakes so violently that I swung over into a nose-wheelie - balanced on the front wheel. Hanging there, I simultaneously blew my right foot out of the pedal, grabbed for a sign post with my right hand, and feathered the brake lever with the left. I recovered quite gracefully and continued on my way. As I was technically at fault, I didn't bother to hector the taxi passenger. It was actually pretty cool. I enjoy near-misses.