Yesterday was long day filled with the usual ups and downs. My favorite line of the day came from my assistant Anthony who showed up around dinner time. “You are really racking up victim’s rights pamphlets!” he said, as he looked at the paperwork Officer Escobedo left on my kitchen counter.

My second bike stolen in two weeks. Might not seem like a big deal to some, but I live for my bikes! I ride every day. I ride for fun. I ride for transportation. I ride just to think. The first one stolen was my favorite. I had it for 21 years. I moved it everywhere I moved and it moved me. I felt like my legs weren’t complete unless my feet were in the peddle cages. I had that bike locked up fairly well to a stair rail right outside my kitchen door. My yard is enclosed with electronic gates and this area is not easily visible from the street. I locked the second bike in the same place. (losing reader confidence – not smart I know) But this time I used a huge intimidating cable, the largest I could find. My brain told me that the robber had probably moved on and even if he didn’t “he would never want to deal with this size cable.” My brain also thinks everyone is a nice person deep down so “naturally the robber probably feels very badly that he stole my first bike. He won’t return to hurt me again, but I’ll lock the bike really good to block any temptation.” My self dialog is kindergarten.

I woke up happy yesterday morning. That’s usual for me. I am always an optimist in the morning. Every day has the potential to be a great day. I put on my yoga clothes, packed my bike trunk and strapped my mat to my back. I said good bye to the dogs and hopped out the kitchen door. I saw the super large cable lock in the driveway before I even noticed the bike missing.

The work day went fine. I shot some real estate photos. I had lunch with some great friends. I furthered my relationship with the Orlando Police Department who tried (I am sure only to please the bicycle nut that is me) to dust for finger prints on scrap metal left at the scene.

There was only one choice for dinner. Yup. Tijuana — the feel good place.

Then Anthony and I played around with light and filters for an upcoming shoot. I laughed so much when I saw this picture this morning. It looks like I could not keep my eyes open. I look exhausted. Modeling is my least favorite thing, but necessary for the job of making others look good. (Not even I could ask Anthony to model this one) The woman who will actually model for these shots will be perfect! She is a super talented and beautiful actress, singer and dancer. I thought it would be fun to show the before (me!) and the after (Blue Star). I am looking forward to the shoot.

I haven’t opened the victims right pamphlets. I hope they tell me that the best thing for me is a new bike or a massage or even a mani/pedi. I hope they don’t just tell me about the judicial process, prosecution and stuff. I’ll choose my self dialog this time. It’s usually way more optimistic!