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get a life
Sometime during the night one of the dogs decided they needed to go out and bark at the moon or something. When I hear the scratchin' on the front door I haul my butt out from under the covers to open the door. There's a big old honkin' security light out in the trees to protect us. I was about to shut the door and stumble back to bed when I noticed the snow falling in its' glow. Standing there in my jammies gawking at the wonder, I felt like a kid again..somehow expecting a magical snow day to stay home from school with Annie or Margaret and worry the hell out of whomever got the pleasure of tending to the brood. It was still there when I left for work, but melted during the warmth of the day.

My friend Dak always tells me to "get a life" whenever I call Yaya and he's within hearing distance. He and I share a total disdain for the Bush administration. Dude has this magnetic bumper sticker with the date of the 2009 inauguration. Bush's Last Day. It fell off in the carwash one time but she managed to pick it out of the soap suds and slap it back on his bumper. True freakin' love if I ever saw it.

George's funeral is tomorrow. We will be there come rain or shine because that is what friends do. My plan is to wear the scrubs that I go work in prior to and pray for his family to find some peace. He's already playing a heavenly golf game watching them sort through stuff on their way to the next chapter of their lives. Too bad he didn't get to meet Hoss when we stopped by their store with his oxygen tank a couple of years ago. They would have loved each other at first sight.

We've had all sorts of strange men around here measuring floors and pickin' up lawnmowers and such. When you don't got a honey to "do", you hire-a-fella to do it for you and then don't have to listen to him snore or fart. That lifestyle has its' moments of glory. I'm just trying to figure out how many pies and pots of white beans it will take to pay them off and keep Tony Soprano at bay.

Beeper #2 sits on my desk as I type because I forgot to take it out of my pocket when I left the day job. That's how our phlebotomists get requests from other parts of the hospital for blood draws and today I was one of 'em. You have to be a fairly young energetic type of chick to do that type of work but fortunately I got to stay at mission control to deal with outpatients and shuffle paper. There ARE perks for being an old timer with bad feet. Not to worry! The usual face will be back at her desk in the morning, fresh from a marriage retreat and ready to catch that pneumatic tube!

More later as the story develops.

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