Tumultuous! That one word that aptly describes my attempt to negotiate some rest after a 12 hour night shift. Even before my foot touched the floor I felt it in my bones that today was not going to be a stellar one. This was reinforced as my carcass arose from the bed for at that precise moment a fleeting thought crossed my mind instructing me to go to the nearest trash bin and deposit myself. Son of a seahorse it wasn't even garbage day! The feeling of a bad day ahead I could not shake and think it was a accumulation of stress, pain, lack of sleep and too many days straight at work not previous days filled with boisterous bravado nor alcoholic concoctions. I know bring out the world's smallest violin and play "Suck it up Buttercup." in c minor.
What the halibut as I grabbed the cure heading out the door.
Nogo came to rest at a ball field where I had previously net a spill of Nova Scotia tokens circa 1832. The "ProCure" was removed from the trunk, turned on, adjusted to the pro zero mode, 2 bars down and iron at 19......my lucky number. Instantly I had become engulfed in a state of Zen.........I was cured........taken to a higher plain........actually it was center field behind second base. Coins came.
After copious amounts of clad I ventured into the woods beneath the white bellowing pillow clouds and walked on a blanket of half frozen leaves, twigs and moss with a hardwood stand forming the headboard. Serenity.................interrupted by a soft purr from the Pro. A toasty token with just a hint of a thistle..the only signal!
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