Your Experience Might Be Your Problem

I wake up wondering why blood is dripping off my nose onto the ground.

I’m sitting. I’ve gashed my forehead and the blood is using my nose for an off-ramp. How long have I been gone from the bike shop? Not wanting to return a bloody mess, I pull a fistful of grass to wipe the blood off my face. Instead, it’s like a paintbrush. I splash water from the creek onto my face. I take my socks off to wipe…