I’VE BEEN WEARING THE SAME UNDERWEAR FOR THE LAST THREE DAYS
I haven’t shaved my face in five weeks. My legs are hairy, hairy like those of college students foot-bagging in the grass. I haven’t done laundry in three weeks. Three days ago in room 508 of Hotel Torino, Ian Marshall washed 15 pairs of Castelli cycling socks in the bathroom sink. After washing them vigorously for 30, maybe 45, seconds he left them in the sink overnight to soak, and in the morning he draped all 15 pairs of socks (30 individual units) along the top edge of the shower box, over three different towel bars and around the top of the trash can under the sink. This endeavor, Ian’s washing endeavor, inspired me to do laundry—until I forgot. Now I’ve been recycling dirty socks for the last five days. My boots have been wet for the last 48 hours though, so I’m not sure clean socks are even a priority (especially considering my tee-shirt situation). I have regular nosebleeds (allergies), post-n-pre-nasal drip (allergies) and itchy eyes (allergies).
I am quick to anger, irrational, confused and bloated. I regularly get into verbal altercations with Polizia, Race Officials, Spectators and other Photographers. I drive with impunity which impunity technically does not exist.
Two nights ago, the night Klaus arrived, the same night we ate fritters, deep fried and non-specific sushi, popcorn shrimp, user-selected meats and vegetables grilled Mongolian-while-you-wait-style, “Asian style” Italian pasta, assorted sushi rolls (most of the fish cooked, with most of what wasn’t cooked a variation of krab-with-a-K or white fish/Pollock) hash browns, and similar at Ristorante Bambu: Cucina Italiana Cusine Glapponese, we finished working and went to bed at 4:00 am. That morning we woke at 8:00 am to drive to Mori for the start of Stage 18.
Last night we slept for three and a half hours. I’m wrecked.