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21st Century Lesbian Trailer Trash

These are the mad musings of a middle aged woman, dyke, nurse, poet. I have a dog, a cat, a mobile home, and delusions of grandeur.

Name:
Location: California, United States

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Signs of the Tracker

Like a Native American tracker, the hunters of all ancient tribes, or the gypsy with her tea leaves, I start my day reading and tracking signs.

The dog pooped in the proper spot this morning. This means it will be a very good day. If I am out the house by 0830 and if I don't trip over the trash can, it will be an even better day.

If I receive more that 3 phone calls from the nurses between dusk and dawn, my day most likely will not be so hot.

If I am still sitting at my computer at this late hour, all bets are off. If every traffic light between here and the freeway is red, I will know that I ought to have stayed home.

It's not that I am superstitious. It's not even that my signs are always correct. I just like to have an idea of what to expect during the next 10 to 12 hours. Most days, it's my only connection with the earth.

The modern day drum beat of ancient yearnings.

Kinja, the weblog guide

3 Comments:

Blogger Vanda said...

If you put your underwear on the wrong way and don't figure that one out until you're a work, it's going to be a bad day. Same goes with wearing two different shoes to work, even if they look similar. gigggggle can you tell that happened to me once?

9:28 AM PST  
Blogger ~ nellenelle said...

lmao, I love yer observations! I'm beginning to think you have of the warped mental wanderings that flow through whatever passes fer a brain in my head... why just today, I wuz contemplating hand signs... how we immediately know their meaning. A middle finger, a forefinger spun 'round and aimed at one's temple (like someone mentioning me, rofl) fingers and thumb in opposition and moving them towards each other and back repeatedly (yak yak yak...)

The dog poop measure... good one. Now what does it say if ya get out of bed to visit the loo, don't bother with a light, and... step in it?

6:01 PM PST  
Blogger NursePam said...

I have made it to work with mismatched socks but I think the shoes have always matched ;^)

As for stepping in dog poop at night? She knows exactly where I step when I get out of bed and it hasn't happened since her puppyhood. That ought to give you an idea of what my reaction was.

So, there are places one is not supposed to poop. And then there are places that could get one killed. Definitely a distinction to remember.

8:00 AM PST  

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