oops i did it again...

I am beat!

I got in earlier this eve from racing in Dijon. My colleague Alex is a racecar driver, and Xavi and I trekked it up to Dijon to shotgun it for a few laps. Exhilarating! And I wore my CGM (continuous glucose monitor)-- my blood glucose actually went down during the ride. Testimony to how relaxed I was secondary to Alex's extremely competent driving.

So I got home this eve, not in the mood to cook, not in the mood to go out, so I was facing a crossroads. One phone call and 35 minutes later I am in Montreux (I usually end up there, don't I) having dinner with Julian, my bud and the godfather of Glocals. Cooking up plans and outings as always for the group, including a monsterous "cardiac hike" next weekend (god save me!).

Between chicken satay and ribs for starters, three shared dishes for main course and (yes) fried pineapple for moi only, dinner went well and the conversation as always was colourful to say the least. I then drove home, ready to crash when I realised that

...oops I did it again: I ate late and therefore I have to stay up, AGAIN, late to calibrate my CGM!!!

stupid.me.

Just as well, it gives me time to reflect on the day and the good time that I had. And the amazing ride home. On the way to Dijon, we took the standard autoroute, amongst the competition between 2 different GPS systems. The ride home proved my GPS to be the winner (my Danish chick that yells at me) as she routed us through the Jura mountains. One of the most beautiful journeys I have taken indeed.

Ever.

The broccoli headed-like trees were sunkissed at their tops, mother nature's fireworks abound with the changing colours of the leaves, twisty-turny roads (mind you, at times interrupted by crappy drivers on the road in front of us, yet I digress...), medieval villages with waist thin alleys, architecture screaming for a BW shot, and the hillsides of sandstone tempting you to touch was surreal.

All of it.

The digestive of the day was a pit stop to click away at Mont Blanc just south of St. Cerge (yes, the place where I was pooped upon by a cow). Cotton candy wafts of pink light scattered the sky, matched with poignant determined spots of blue, yielding the white greatness of the Mont Blanc in such a beautiful contrast set against the quiet bustle of Nyon below. I had my Casio with me, which did not do the shot justice to say the least. With a few snaps and quick cigarette break, the day came to a close.

Yet the drive to Dijon itself, albeit on the sometimes mind numbing asphalt in comparison to the ride home was pale, I admit the wafe-like moon in the daytime sky, transparently so, winked at us continuously in a curious manner. That too was memorable indeed. And to top it off, I was one step closer to my childhood dream of touching the clouds, as we were driving through cloud billows when crossing a lake (forget where!) on the way to Dijon. Should have pulled over....

question-- when does waiting up pay off?