i love that feeling, after burning a red light so smoothly its like you were never there. splitting lanes, dodging cars, peds, using reflections in plate glass to see around otherwise blind corners. using every trick to keep your momentum up. doing this, i've had my share of close calls. some were my fault. some were the other guy's.

i know that i put myself in dangerous situations, and i dont mean to boast, but i'm good at what i do. i try to use good judgement, to ride within my abilities, and rely on experience to predict the actions of other vehicles. thankfully i emerge unscathed 95% of the time. its that 5% im worried about. the things you can't possibly predict.

sometimes, a drycleaning guy will jump out of his truck with three bridesmaids dresses slung over his shoulder on a rainy morning. you'll swerve to dodge. you'll miss him, but the trailing plastic garment bags will snag on your handlebar and you'll drag those pristine white dresses twenty feet along the grimy, ****ty asphalt before you can come to a stop. and there's not a damn thing you could have done about it.

sometimes, the situation will be not so much funny as is it physically and mentally painful. thankfully, i've never incurred a major injury while working, or just plain riding. but the possibility is always there.

lightning strike survivor's describe a tingling sensation prior to them being stuck. the tingling is caused by static electricity building up right before the bolt strikes. i think i can kind of relate, in a roundabout way.

i rode around for about a week feeling like i was going to get creamed. i had just come off a back injury. (a gap in the lasalle bridge grabbed my front wheel at speed and i got a trip over the handlebars as well as an unexpected vacation. i also toasted the front wheel and frame.) i came back and had a terrible day. inane runs that didn't fit together, crap weather, touchy clients, you know the deal. it seemed like everything and everyone was jumping in front of me. it got a little better, it got a little worse for the duration of the week. a bad week, but you know, just another week.

the next monday, it rained all day and i got solidly doored at 5:15pm, bringing in my last package for the day. it was then that doubt crept in. i had this sick, nagging thought in my head all through the week that i was going to wreck, and bad. i think that's why i quit, among other, more tangible reasons.