judging appearances

Sorry, but I don't believe that people don't judge appearances. At least to some extent.
Like a messy apartment. Don't try to tell me that a filthy living situation isn't being mentally assessed the first time you see it. Maybe, unlike me, your mind isn't racing, trying to find a way to get out of said disgusting apartment, but let's be honest, you're still judging.
One reason why I will frantically clean up my apartment if anyone is going to even just stop by.
Unfortunately this hasn't really been translating to my bike. I've been the worst bike mom recently. So bad, that I've found myself in uncomfortably embarrassing situations where I take my bike in to be looked at and end up muttering some apology about how I meant to clean it before coming into the shop, while the mechanic reaches for a rag.
Yeah, I bet he's judging. I would.

I managed, last night, to chip away the crusty salt-dirt-water mixture that was caked on my downtube though. My rims got wiped down and I also realized that my rear hub is actually a shiny silver, not some gray/matte silver color. The chain got lubed and my tires pumped; those usually get done, but it doesn't really do much to improve the general messy appearance of my bike.
As always, I ended up with grease-stained hands, wrists, and arms. Soap only does so much, which means I get to appreciate exactly how manishly dirty my hands look as I finished the rest of my tea.

I've come to the conclusion that bike grease just isn't swoon-worthy or even endearing on a girl. Or at least not on this one. And, even though I know you're going to [because I totally would], don't judge, okay?
[Edit: it's gorgeous out today. Get out and ride!]