I'm not so angry anymore, it's hard to keep up a proper seething rage for more than a day or two. I shall use my dad's old bike for now, he got a new recently.
In other bike related news, I helped Aki (one of the Japanese exchange students) put her new bike together. Perhaps 'helped' isn't the right word, since I did everything except hold the bike steady and lifting the back wheel for checking the tuning on the gears. The reason we had to assemble a bike was that Biltema sells bikes in boxes only partially put together. Makes them easier to stack I guess. This is acceptable since they also sell the cheapest new bikes in town.
Then we had tea before testing the bike by riding out to the burial mounds in Gamla Uppsala.
Oh, and the title. It's both a reference to a line in this song and to the fact that I managed to stick a knife deep (well, as deep as is possible in a bony finger) in my left index finger while cutting the packaging from a locking wire. Stupid. Wound is small and will heal just fine if I just keep it clean, but it throbs like hell.

Listening to: Mountain - Tired Angels