Trying to make room for the foldout bed before my daughter visits. The obvious place for the spare bike parts is the shelf above it, except then she'll wake up looking at a wheel and a box marked brakes. Not exactly a guest suite. I moved the wheel beside the cupboard and discovered it stops the cupboard opening, so that was a short experiment. The room works fine for one person who knows where everything is. Adding a second person exposes a few assumptions. I could put some things in the covered rack, if I sort what really needs to stay dry. For now the bed opens and there's a path to the door. That's enough progress to stop for dinner.

Got home dry everywhere except a strip round each wrist where the rain had worked its way under the cuffs. Took the gloves off and my fingers were pale and clumsy, couldn't get the little catch on the helmet to cooperate. Once it was off, the cool air on my forehead felt good enough that I stood under the covered rack for a minute instead of going inside. Funny arrangement, cold hands and a hot head. The shower sorted most of it out. My knees were a bit stiff getting out, nothing they don't usually report after a wet shift. Now I've got clean clothes on and both feet up, and the pleasant part of being tired has finally arrived.

Mom asked again whether I'd thought about something permanent, meaning a job that isn't delivering food. I've been doing this for years, but apparently it doesn't count as permanent until I dislike it enough. I said I was fine and changed the subject, then felt a little hurt afterward. She worries, I know. Still, I'd like to tell her about a decent week without it becoming evidence that I might qualify for some other life. My daughter called later and asked whether the new rain cover worked. We talked about that for ten minutes. It was nice, being asked about the thing I'm actually doing. I didn't mention the conversation with Mom. Didn't feel like having it twice.