When that tiny stream slipped into the tank, three weeks ago, I hardly noticed it. It was pouring with rain, the fuel station wasn’t in good shape and millions of raindrops were dancing all around the bike. My short pre-holiday ride was done, I wanted to set the bike ready for the very post-holiday trip. But bikes’ tanks do not like raindrops, specially inside. Thus yesterday morning, when I tried to turn on my bike, I almost forgot the fuel station episode. When the bike didn’t want to wake up, I carefully took the charger out of its box, I removed the extension cable from the garage lamp, I arranged it in place, I connected the charger to the bike and I went up in the kitchen to drink a glass of water. Water – would this be right topic instead of low battery? My charger is powerful, I trust it, in ten minutes it fixes any problem, as far as the problem belongs to the battery. The problem didn’t, neither the bike cilinders started to move. I suddenly became aware of the pre-holiday accident and anger started to occupy myself. It is not easy to disable anger. But anger is useless. Anger will not turn your bike on, I told myself while calling my mechanic. Anger will not make my your day, it would rather transform it in a nightmare, where your wife and your kids keep themselves away from you because there is no way to see you smile. I forced myself to calmly schedule the meeting with my mechanic – “we need to remove the filter, clean it and place it back, you can’t do it by yourself and I can’t join you until wednesday” -, brought the charger back to its box, replaced the wire at lamps’ feet and decided to bring my kids to the movie. It has been a wonderful day.